


An Ever Fixed Mark

by snowbryneich



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:36:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7852795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowbryneich/pseuds/snowbryneich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Norrington finds himself proposing to Elizabeth Swann again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was hardly a situation he could be easy about, James thought as he paced in the hall of the Governor’s house He could only wonder why after the Governor had badgered him into this he was being put off. He had no expectation that his second proposal to Elizabeth Swann would be any better received than the first but he had said he would make it. Though at least he could expect that he would neither have to wait as long for an answer or have to worry about her falling off the battlements.

It was less nerve wracking, he had to admit to know going in that he would be turned down. It made the whole thing an exercise in humiliation but he could not deny that he _owed_ Weatherby Swann. The man had asked him to consider once again courting his daughter. James had agreed. It was not as if the idea was objectionable to him. For all her ruined reputation on her return to Port Royal, she still held a certain fascination for James. He could admit that if only to himself. It was just that he could not see it going well. She had not wanted him as a fresh-faced debutante; he doubted she would have changed her mind just because of a lack of options. She was if nothing else stubborn. And James was aware that just because Will Turner had not come back with her, it did not mean she did not expect him at some point. The Governor had secured pardon’s for all three of them after Beckett’s machinations even if Turner’s had only been on Elizabeth’s behalf.

When he was eventually shown into see her she was curled up on a chaise lounge in the downstairs sitting room, he knew she favoured for being out of the way. Her hair was neither styled not pinned and hung in her face and she was engrossed in a book. She was wearing the oddest assortment of clothing - plain black trousers of the sort any common deck hand might wear paired with a shirt of vivid blue silk embroidered with oriental designs. Her feet were bare and she did not so much as look up at him. He paused - this then explained the delay in his being permitted into see her. No doubt her father had tried and failed to coax her into something more seemly.

“I apologise if I am intruding,” he said awkwardly. She glanced up and blinked at him – apparently he was a surprise. What had her father told her? he wondered.

“No,” she said with a wry smile. “You’re quite welcome James. I just didn’t feel the need for pretence.” She set down the book. “Should I ring for refreshments - I had no idea it would be you. Father was making such a fuss I assumed it was going to be another of the suitors he’s bribed or bullied into offering for me.” She sent a maid for some tea while James stood awkwardly - perhaps this _could_ go nearly as badly as the first proposal. Elizabeth carried on without a response from him in her criticism of her father’s attempt to salvage her reputation. “He’s become quite resourceful - I can have my pick of the destitute gamblers with a decent name and quite a few second born sons in need of a rich father in law it seems.”

James cleared his throat, lost for words and that it seemed was enough for her to realise.

“Oh,” she said and actually looked a little flummoxed for once. “Oh I see.” She smiled awkwardly. “Goodness James, surely you aren’t badly enough off to have to consider me.”

“No,” he said. “No - I owe your father a great deal. But it is not a financial debt.” While he had no expectation of her agreeing to his proposal his pride still stung at the idea she could consider him mercenary.

A maid brought a tea tray then which silenced them both and whatever James had planned to say goes right out of his head so he is glad of the distraction of the drink.

He took a breath. “Well I don’t suppose you can decline me until I ask,” he said, though he offered up a small smile to show he did not mean to berate her for her lack of interest. If nothing else he could appreciate the absurdity of it all. “Whatever they say - I still consider you a fine woman, Elizabeth. And I do not offer for your father’s sake alone. We have always been friends. If a marriage of convenience had any appeal to you at all I think we could rub along well together.” They had been as friendly as they could be given societies restrictions and while living with her would sting in so many ways he would welcome her company. “So that is my offer.”

“James,” she said in a soft voice. She patted at his hand –it was far too familiar when he knew she was summoning up a refusal but it was meant kindly he supposed. “It’s very kind of you to try and save me from myself. I think yours is the only proposal that’s been remotely tempting.” He doubted that very much but at least he is being offered a kinder let down than a public rejection this time. “You know if it were not for the baby I might have accepted you just to get away from my father’s fussing.”

James dropped his teacup startled and winced when it smashed. “Baby?” he said, his voice high pitched with surprise which made him want to clear his throat. He could not bring himself to look at her and stared instead at the ruined china and before he bent to gather up the shattered pieces. He had ruined the rug.

He set the pieces down on the tea tray and took a breath before he finally looked at her again. Elizabeth is surprised but sympathetic “I’m sorry,” she said. “I assumed Father had at least been honest with _you_.” She shrugged. “And that you must have known I was in rather desperate straights if you were willing to consider me. I am with child. My father is arranging suitors as one last chance to salvage my reputation and convince me to stay.” She dropped one hand to her stomach and James watched her - he saw no sign of pregnancy but he knew that meant little. She would hardly say it if wasn’t true. “I mean to go to Nassau and say I’m a widow - he can’t bear to have me leave again. Hence the desperate hunt for a son in law.”

“You could say you were a widow here,” he said appalled at himself for encouraging her to lie - yet it is not as bad as the thought of her leaving.

“Only if Will doesn’t show up and name me a liar,” she pointed out. “I can’t see any reason why he would appear in Nassau and if he did he’d hardly look for me there.”

"You think he would do that to you," James said. "Under the circumstance?" Surely Turner would keep quiet for the sake of the child if nothing else. He still did not understand why Elizabeth had come back without him.

"I don't know," Elizabeth admitted. She sounded very young all of a sudden when she told him. "Our parting was . . . acrimonious. And I'd prefer not to take chances. He doesn’t know about the baby – I didn’t realize myself until I was halfway home. And while it is his child I'm not sure he'd believe me." She blushed at that and James would like very much to have words with Turner and demand he explain this lack of care and attention to Elizabeth’s well being. He had no right of course. But he wanted it all the same. They sat in silence for a long while.

Then he tried again. "Nassau is a rough place," he said. "For a widow and small child. Surely you would rather be near your father. You cannot blame him for wanting to know his grandchild. If the only obstacle is the child - I give you my word that if you accept my proposal - I would treat the child as my own."

For a moment she seemed to almost consider it. But she shook her head. “It is a lot to ask.” She pointed out. “Too much to ask. There will always be talk. What if the baby looks like Will?”

“Talk will die down,” he said. “And it would hardly be unexpected if we were to have a dark haired, dark eyed child.” James knew his words were as much to convince himself as much as her. He hoped he was doing a good a job with her as he was with himself.

“You are too good, James,” she said. “I don’t know what I did to deserve your kindness,” she paused a moment. “Or what misdeeds in your past mean you deserve me.”

He hated the notion she was equating herself to some sort of punishment no matter how badly things had gone between them in the past. But she had said not said _no_ again so he played along. “You’ve caught me then,” he said. “My deepest secret. I was extremely wicked as a youth.”

She blinked and he wondered if he should have defended her instead then she laughed and he relaxed a little as the room became less tense. “What rot,” she said, “I think you were born a perfect gentleman, James. It’s all the more reason you should want nothing to do with me.” Then she surprised him again as she brushed a kiss to his cheek. “I think you should think over what you are getting into,” she said frankly. “It’s not just another man’s child. My reputation is in tatters and I think even my father’s influence is not enough to stop that damaging your career.” He meant to argue – Beckett’s arrest warrant had been a blow. Between that and his failure to capture the Black Pearl meant he knew Commodore would be the highest rank he attained – but it could have been much worse if not for her father but she shushed him before he could. “ _Please_ James – take some time.” He had rarely heard her sound so uncertain yet she was still sincere. She carried on. “Think on it properly – what you would be getting into. Sleep on it. If you change your mind we don’t ever have to speak on this again. If you are set on this – ask again and I promise you an acceptance. An unconditional one.” Then she stood and left the room and left him dazed by her news, her response and more than anything her _possible_ acceptance. He had not so much as let himself consider she might accept him. It would have driven him crazy if he had.

 

Her request is not unreasonable he knows yet he was bemused by her attempts to warn him off. ‘ _Think on it.’_ Elizabeth had insisted. James can’t _help_ but think on it – as if he has not thought on it before. He has never managed to push Elizabeth out of his heart or mind entirely. He took his leave of Governor Swann politely. The man was demonstrably deflated by the lack of news of an engagement. James must have seemed his most likely candidate to succeed. He wondered whom the governor would throw at Elizabeth next – She would not be bullied into a lifeline even in circumstances that any other woman would be glad of _any_ proposal. She would only accept him if _he_ is certain yet it is her who will suffer if she was not wed and soon.

Even her offer of a guaranteed acceptance if he should ask again did not make things easy. He had never really considered they might end up engaged when he had gone to propose and that was without the child. Now he knows what her answer would be if he asked but it was not that simple. A marriage of convenience was never what he wanted but somehow such an arrangement with _Elizabeth_ appeals more than a smart match with a more proper lady; with any other lady. And he can hardly bring himself to care that the child was Turner’s when he would have the raising of it. It is more of fatherhood than he would ever have as a bachelor. She may even consent to another child in a couple of years when they are more settled. She had always complained of being an only child when she was younger. It is the fact that if she had any other choice she would not choose him. He never meant to trap her in such a manner even if it were not his action that had forced her to this point.

He could live with her. He knew that. Even at one point in their first engagement he had started to think they would lead separate lives in one household. And it need not be always awkward – it would never be what he once wanted. But he could accept that. And he could not bear to think of her in Nassau alone. He wanted her to stay here and he _wanted_ to marry her.

It made waiting to propose difficult. In the end he waited two days before he went back – Elizabeth had said she would say yes but only if he had thought it over. So he owed her that much and he hardly wanted to be sent away to do more thinking. Given her condition, time is rather of the essence – there will be talk of course when the child comes early but if he can marry her before the pregnancy is evident it will only be gossip and they won’t be shunned by society even if there was talk

 

When he called on Elizabeth, he was startled to find her much more properly dressed – her hair in a soft up do and she wore a stiff linen dress of pale green. He was touched to think she had done this for him when she had made it clear she would not for the other suitors and yet anxious to have her answer despite her promise. Now he had settled his mind he had wondered if she was a certain as she said. It would not be the first change of heart she had had of course. It’s why he forgets entirely his prepared speech – the third he has thought of for her and says instead. “Elizabeth, will you marry me?” The question is blurted out before she can so much as offer him refreshments and he blushed for sounding such a green boy.

Elizabeth was not thrown though and she reached for his hand and took it in hers before she assured him. “Of course I will James.” There was an expression on her face that he hadn’t often seen on her and he thought it was relief – he hoped it was anyway. She kissed his cheek again. “I’ll tell my father,” she said. “Perhaps you could make the soonest possible arrangement.” She blushed there. “Given circumstances.”

James nodded – of course she did not want to wait for the banns to be read, he can surely obtain a license by claiming his military duty. Or by revealing her condition and claiming he is responsible.

 

In the end, neither claim is needed. His future father in law has smoothed that path too and a license is easily obtained. They marry two days later in a small ceremony, with her father and maid as witnesses. Elizabeth did not seem sad which he is grateful for. He did not think he could have born it if she had wept. But she was merely beautiful and _relieved_ again. Her belongings were moved to his home that morning and they shared a wedding breakfast with her father before he took her home.

His home was smaller than the manor he had bought for their first marriage and had promptly sold when their engagement ended. But there was not time for him to find a better property. There is enough room for them each to have their own room though they do adjoin and a room that could be a nursery. Though he assured her he would look into more suitable properties, which seemed to interest her not at all. She seemed both pale and flushed all at once and he wondered suddenly if she was nervous of him. Surely not, his expectations were quite clear and even if not – her condition precluded any sort of notion of wedding night duty. She held tightly to his arm as he showed her the house. There is a moment where she swayed just a little and he guided her to a seat alarmed as she clung to him, her eyes closed.

“I feel sick,” she said her grip tight on his arm and James felt his stomach sink. She regretted this already and he felt guilty at his own relief when she added. “The midwife said the nausea is a good sign but it doesn’t seem that way to me.”

“Oh,” he said, his face flushed a little but relieved this is normal for her condition and not as he had taken it a sign of regret. “I am sure it cannot be pleasant but at least the midwife has made it clear it is not a cause for concern. Would you like something to drink? Or perhaps you should rest?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t plague you too much over my health. Not under the circumstances.”

James stared at her offended. “I think circumstances allow me to worry over the health of my wife and _our_ child.” He regretted sounding so possessive almost immediately, he anticipated she would take that poorly. But they had agreed he would stand as the child’s father – why should he not take an interest. He tried not to sound annoyed. She was trying to be thoughtful, he knew but he did not want to be spared the details of her health out of consideration. He wanted to act as a father to be. Besides their long acquaintance had made clear that Elizabeth was a terrible patient, who felt most medical restrictions were guidelines at best which only added to his concern. He cleared his throat and tried again to make peace. “That is what we agreed is it not?” he reminded her. She looked uncharacteristically unsure and he tried to be encouraging. “I did spend two days thinking over it,” he added in an attempt to make her smile. He _had_ chosen this. He beamed when it works and she offers him a small smile before acquiescing.

“Alright,” she said, “but don’t think I’ll put up with fuss. I’m pregnant not dying.” She wrinkles her nose and added. “The midwife recommended ginger for nausea and gave me this awful tea but I can barely stomach that either. But perhaps I should try it.”

 

It took two cups of the tea – reluctantly imbibed and half the afternoon before Elizabeth regained some colour. A cup was forced on him too by Elizabeth who informed him if he was going to fuss, he can be medicated too but it only amused him. He did not think the tea is bad at all but he had enough sense that he refrained from saying so. They spent the rest of their wedding day in the gardens, which Elizabeth was keen on at least. The gardens are nothing special compared to her father’s house but they are well kept and the fresh air seems to brighten her at least.

James can see a shape of a life here and it is one he wanted. He even thought he might have convinced Elizabeth of that too by the time they retired to their separate rooms. As he had convinced her his interest in her condition was genuine he had spent half the evening asking over her health and what to expect until she exasperated told him she was not a midwife and could not answer above half his questions. But she had not appeared truly angry. Her words had seemed almost fond for a scold.

He woke the next morning to find Elizabeth’s vision for their marriage is not as aligned with his as he thought. She was in _his bed_ , asleep in his arms despite the fact he went to bed alone. Her legs are tangled with his, her hair was loose and fell into her face and her fine shift is so thin that he felt the heat of her skin even as he pulled his hands away from her. She may as well be naked for all it covered her, he thought. He suddenly had no idea where to put his hands and his body reacted in a vey specific way to her presence, which he did not want her to know about. He decided the best thing was to get up and leave her to her sleep but she stirred when he moved, wriggled closer to him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Stop that,” she scolded. “I was comfortable.” That touched him a little. That she was comfortable with him even if she had chosen the most bizarre and brazen way to show it. He lay still and let one hand settle in the small of her back. Elizabeth laid one hand on his chest, pillowed her head on his arm and appeared to doze while he watched her sleep.

It was nearly an hour later when he attempted to move again – if only because he had lost all feeling in the arm she was lying on. He shifts slightly and watches her stretch and tried to hide a yawn, before she settled back onto his pillow. Cautiously he slipped his hand round from the small of her back to the flat of her stomach. This made her stir and he retreated feeling guilty. “There is nothing to feel yet,” she murmured sleepily, “but you are welcome to try.” He let his hand slip back to her stomach and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Nothing yet but she will not hold him at a distance when there is something to be seen. He can’t help but find that a promising beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth attempts to show James she wants more from marriage than a smart match

When Elizabeth had been startled out of sleep by James’ movement it had seemed entirely natural to tell him to stop. She had not _meant_ to start the morning off by scolding James but she had never taken kindly to being awoken early. She supposed it was something she may have to get used to if she intended to keep sharing her husband’s bed. And she did intend that. She knew he would never ask it of her but she suspected he would not ask _anything_ of her and that was not a state of affairs she intended to let continue. It was not that she had any real desire to be intimacy for it’s own sake. She had learned the hard way that intimacy was a messy painful affair but she could not think of any other way to make James’ _see_ that she wanted more from marriage. And if he was more gentle with her than Will had been then surely she could put up with a bit of mess. Because while she had not planned to marry James Norrington, now that she _had_ , she wanted it to be a proper marriage. Elizabeth would be damned if she settled for some sort of arrangement where they led separate lives in one house. It was half of what had put her off James before – she’d been convinced he wanted a smart match. But surely she had been wrong about his motivations before – he _did_ know her. He had proved that. And apparently he still wanted her anyway. He had married her though she had both publicly jilted him and proved to be as far from a fine woman as it was possible to be. He wanted to be a father to her child. Surely it should not be hard to convince him he wanted to be her husband in truth?

She herself wanted to be his wife in more than name. It had surprised her how much - when he had proposed she had not lied when she said she was tempted to accept if not for the child she did not mean to foist on an unsuspecting husband. James would _never_ choose his father over her. She had spent the time she had insisted he take to think over his offer anxious that he would think better of it and not come back. He _was_ a good man and she could want him and if he wanted her enough to take on another man’s child, surely that was not a bad start for a marriage. Yet now she was lying in his arms and he had more interest in the child in her belly than in her person for all her shift did not leave much to the imagination. She did not understand. Surely if he had just wanted to be a father he could have married one of the dozens of debutantes who flung themselves at officers and managed a child of his own that way.

When James eventually seemed to accept that her stomach was not that interesting, he made another attempt to rise for the day which she allowed. She steadfastly refused to get up herself though. She had no interest in breakfast and while she had slept well she was still tired. She did not know if this was yet another delight she had pregnancy to thank for or if it was a lingering effect of the sleepless nights she had had before marriage. Elizabeth had not slept properly since the night on the voyage home that she had fled the cabin of the merchant ship to vomit over the side. She had caught sight of the full moon and realised all at once that she had lost track of time and missed her courses - then it had sunk in the sea sickness she had been struck with for the first time in her life was not actually sea sickness. She’d never been so horrified by the full moon She would have rather dealt with a dozen cursed pirates than an infant.

She had spent the latter half of that voyage trying to make sure no-one else suspected that her ‘seasickness’ was not that (it would have been terrible inconvenient considering she had disguised herself as a boy again,) and rehearsing just how she could give her father this news. She had attempted to rationalise that it would not be that bad. She had known her reputation would not survive a second stint at sea or another ended engagement. If she was ruined anyway what did it matter if she had a natural child. She could not even convince herself of that let alone her imaginary version of her father. She had waited two days after her return before she told him - both because she had not truly wanted to tell him not matter how necessary it was and because he had been so happy. She had not wanted to spoil it. Unsurprisingly her father had not been persuaded to the point of view that her ruination in the eyes of society anyway excused her condition. That had been when he started to plot to find her a husband - by any means necessary it seemed.

She had never seen her father as relieved as when she told him she’d accepted James. He’d been as happy as when she got home. Her refusal of the other suitors he had scared up had led him to him to start hinting she could retreat somewhere for the sake of her health after her upsetting time at sea and a good home could be found for the baby. The first time he had brought that up she hadn’t spoken to her father for three days and had made her plans to go to Nassau.

 

Eventually Elizabeth does shift herself from bed and return to her own room. She made herself resist the temptation to explore James’ rooms and go through his things. He would never do that to her, she knew. But then unlike her he would probably not even enter her room uninvited. She had joined him in the middle of the night without so much as a by your leave.Though as rude as that was she remained convinced it was her only option. She was sure if she had asked he would have been embarrassed and assured her she need not come to his bed and not believed that she wanted to. He would have panicked that she was being dutiful and worried over her health. So she had not asked and had slipped into his arms in the middle of the night. He had accepted that easily enough and held her close rather than seemed at perturbed by it. But that had been asleep - awake he probably felt badly over it even now even though all they had done was sleep.

Knowing there would be nothing but sleep had been part of why she had been so bold as to go to his bed. For all that Elizabeth had no fond feelings towards physical intimacy she was well aware her pregnancy was no real barrier to consummation of her marriage. The midwife her father had paid to see to her and to be discrete had made this clear. But she could not see James being convinced of this. Not with words anyway, as if they could even have such a conversation. It would be easy to use this as an excuse to keep her distance from him. Elizabeth had never done things the easy way and it seemed almost cowardly to use the child as a shield against intimacy. So she had decided to show him by being close to him. And then in his arms to her surprise she had slept well for the first time in weeks. As brazen as she had been with her plans, the thought of raising a child on her own had scared her more than any sword fight. Children were a challenge that had never appealed. It was only when her father had plotted to give away the child had Elizabeth truly started to want it. And James wanted the child too though he has no real reason to.

Back in her room she found that though she had no appetite at all, a breakfast tray has been sent for her anyway along with another cup of the awful ginger tea, which did not impress her at all. Still it was only an attempt to help, so she forced it down. She summoned a maid dressed for the day and set off to find her husband.

 

James was in the dining room - she was surprised he was not done eating and realised he must have held breakfast in case she joined him and sent the tray when she did not. It was thoughtful and yet inconvenient as the smell of his breakfast undid any good that damned tea had done - she barely managed not to retch in front of him. But when she sat down and tried not to look as if she felt ill, James, of course, noticed immediately and came at once to her side. “I am fine,” she assured before he could say a word. “As fine as a woman in my condition can be. I promise.” For all his defence of his interest in her pregnancy there was only so much Elizabeth was willing to share. “There is no need for you to worry,” she told him wryly. “Even if you should have every right too.”

“That is me told then,” he said with a quirk of his lips that she realised was a barely suppressed smile. “I suppose Nassau is looking a better fate than putting up with my fussing.”

“No,” she said, startled that he would say that and frustrated as well that he has taken everything she said the wrong way - she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “I’m very glad to not be in Nassau. I promise James. I’m very grateful.” Clearly her promises mean little to him and she cannot deny she only has herself to blame for that.

He only looked unhappy at this statement. “No,” he said quietly, all hint of a smile gone. “You do not have to be grateful, Elizabeth.” He straightened formally and offered her an arm and led them out of the dining room to the downstairs parlour. He sat next to her and held her hand and then seemed to direct his conversation toward it - he could hardly bear to look at her. This was not a promising start. “I meant to tell you,” he said seriously. “You do not owe me anything. If that is why you came to me last night - there is no need.”

“It wasn’t,” she interjected, relieved to have an opening. “It wasn’t gratitude at all.” She shrugged. “I know I should apologise,” she added. “It was wrong of me to come to you without checking and worse to do it while you slept.” She is not sorry though she managed not to say that. “But I wanted to and I did not consider whether you would want me there.” She hoped he might encourage her but he only looks embarrassed and she supposed that is too much to hope for. He’s not going to say he wanted her. Of course not. But surely he does. “I hope it was not too much of an inconvenience,” she said instead.

“No,” he denied at once - she knew of course he would not call her inconvenient. “No of course not. You are welcome to sleep wherever you are most comfortable Elizabeth.”

And there it is - she has her permission for all she had to manipulate it out of him. “Thank you James,” she said. “I’d much prefer to stay with you.” She can see the curiosity on his face but she knew he would not ask. “You have only to say though - if you do not want me there.” She does not think there is much chance of this either but she had at least given him the option. She leant into kiss him softly - the one true kiss they have shared was at their wedding and that was necessarily chaste due to the location and the occasion. But they are alone now and she meant to make it clear that affection would be welcome. But before she could do anything rash he deepened the kiss and wound his fingers into her hair. She made a small soft sound of approval into his mouth and leaned into him. She had always liked kissing even if she is less fond of what comes after. She took hold of the lapel of his jacket when it seemed he might pull away and nipped gently at his lower lip. He started slightly and then held her even closer, his hands slipping to her waist and she is tugged nearly into his lap as she clung to him and let sensation wash over her. He pulled away first of course, murmuring her name and she was sure he was about to apologise or excuse himself or say she needn’t offer him this. So she does not let him. She nuzzled his neck and kissed along his jaw and captured his mouth again.

“Elizabeth,” he murmured against her lips as he drew back again more firmly. “You need not think that this is necessary.” He smoothed a bit of hair out of her face - he has loosened all her pins it seemed. “I hope you know that.”

“I do,” she said as she leaned into him. “When have I ever done anything because it was expected of me?” Her response earned her a smile, a real smile which makes him look so much younger - almost boyish with hope.

“There must have been some occasion surely? But I admit I cannot think of one,” he said. “But as pleasant as this is. . .”

“Pleasant and unnecessary,” she interrupted to tease and he laughed.

“Perhaps not so unnecessary,” he allowed. “”But I am due at the fort,” He sounded most reluctant which Elizabeth can only be pleased over even as his words startle her.

“Oh,” she said both surprised and a little hurt. She had not thought - surely he would already be out for the day if that was the case. And why would he not take leave on the occasion of their wedding.

“I did not have time to arrange leave,” he said hurriedly as if guessing where her thoughts might lie. “Not when time was such a consideration for the wedding.” He had tried to be delicate there but as marrying so quickly was for the protection of her reputation she can hardly take offence.

Elizabeth offered him a smile at that. “I see,” she said. “Well I suppose as the origin of the timing issues I will let you off on this occasion but I expect you to be better organised for future celebrations.” She only meant to tease him but he nods seriously.

“I will do my best,” he said sincerely. “Though I am not sure of the exact date I should be keeping free.” He settled one hand on her stomach and she offered him a kiss. It had not been what she meant but she would prefer it if he were not at sea when the child comes.

“You are wildly misinformed if you think I can offer you an exact date,” she told him with a smile. “But it should be mid November.”

James almost seemed disappointed by the news she was only two months with child. He paused a long while before he offered, “no wonder there is nothing to see yet.” He was at least still of full of interest in the child. “I thought - ah I thought perhaps you were further along. You seemed so certain.”

“I am certain!” Elizabeth said hotly. “It’s only doctors who think you can’t be sure of a child until you can see it kick. Women and midwives know much better. I was sick all the way home and you know I don’t get sea sick and. . ” Elizabeth stopped herself short before she told James’ she had missed her courses twice. For all she wants him to show more interest in her intimately - _that_ was not what she meant. “There are other signs,” she finished huffily.

“Of course,” he said. “I did not mean . . . I only thought - it works out quite well. It won’t seem too unrealistic if we delay the announcement and say it was early. There will be less talk.”

“Yes,” she said - it is an odd positive but it is one. Yet odd for him to bring up and her curiosity must show.

“It is the talk I dread more than anything.” he admitted. “I do not mind about the child,” he told her. “I meant that. But I will not permit anyone to insult you.”

Elizabeth does not care two figs for anyone insulting her now that her father has calmed down and her reputation is at least nominally restored. She should have realised James would feel differently. “I suppose you would like to minimise the number of men you call out for speaking the truth,” she jested only to be startled by his agreement.

“Exactly.” he said with feeling while she stared wide eyed at him. “Though I would call them out if they should speak against you, Elizabeth. It would be beyond ill mannered. Not every truth needs to be spoken. It would make society even more miserable than it can be if people could not rely on some discretion.” Elizabeth is still reeling that James would challenge people on her behalf and that he had any criticism of society and now it was his turn to laugh at her. “I’ve shocked you,” he said.

“No!” she denied and then smiled at him. “Mildly surprised perhaps,” she allowed. “Anyway now I have something to do with my own time while you are at the fort. I have some planning to do - if you are going to challenge people on my behalf I have to at least arrange it so it is people I want to avoid in future so they will cease to issue us invitations.”

He does not even scold her for this - he tried and failed to hide a smile. “I will leave you to your plotting then,” he said. “I do hope I might get some notice of the challenges you have planned for me.”

“Psh,” she said. “Where would be the fun in that.” She does not seriously mean it - she knew men were hurt in duels and so she would not truly plan for them. Not that any of the society dandy’s would be much of a challenge for James. Still they would get the choice of weapon - some of them are decent shots.

 

She saw him off for the day with another kiss and was left to her own devices in the house which she explored more throughly. She found his library and was touched to find in pride of place, the book she gave him for his promotion to Captain not long after their arrival - it was a biography of Sir Walter Raleigh that her father hadn’t thought suitable reading material for her. Shockingly she had only presented it to James because she had high hopes she might be able to borrow it, but then her father had started planning for her debut and she’d never really got the chance to ask.

 

In the end she spends the time when he is at the fort revising the menus with his - _their_ cook in the morning and then reading in the garden in the afternoon. Sir Walter Raleigh is a lot less interesting than Elizabeth thought he would be at fifteen when her father had forbidden her the book.

 

James found her sitting in a shady spot that afternoon when he returned. She offered him a bright smile and in return he has something for her. “I though you might prefer this to the tea,” he said and offered a paper twist bag that she associated with the local confectionary shop which puzzled her. What have sweets got to do with the awful medicinal tea. She opened it and the smell of spice and sugar hit her all at once and she smiled. He’d bought her crystallised ginger.

“Yes, I think I might,” she agreed. She can only hope it is as effective - ginger is ginger is it not? But either way she is touched that James thought of her and she popped a piece in her mouth then tugged him down for a sugary kiss. “Thank you,” she added. “It’s very thoughtful of you.”

By the time they sit to dinner she has eaten more than half of the sugared ginger, which means she has little appetite but at least it is not because she was nauseous. James looked at her half cleared plate and raised an eyebrow at her. “I did rather think that having redone the menu you might have chosen food you like.”

Elizabeth blinked innocently at him - she suspected this was a tease rather than more fussing. He did not look worried at all for once. “I do like it,” she told him airily. “But I am in a delicate condition and my medicine is rather filling.”

James laughs into his wine. “Have you eaten all those sweets, Elizabeth?”

“No,” she protested before she shrugged and admitted. “But only because I wanted to save some in case I felt ill later.”

James reached into his pockets and produced another paper twist of ginger - if he had not bought her more sweets to make up for it, Elizabeth would have taken the way he smirked at her very ill indeed. “I would hate for you to run out,” he said innocently.

“Well if I do I shall be checking your pockets,” Elizabeth informed him. “Only handing over half as if I can’t be trusted James! Who knows what else you have hidden.” She pouted and he just looked at her half eaten dinner meaningfully until she gave in and laughed.

“I promise I have nothing else to hide,” he told her sincerely with his own smile. “But tomorrow I shall enquire about buying in bulk.”

 

That night Elizabeth joined him before he slept - she had his permission. She left her wrap at the end of the bed and curled up beside him in a chemise that only came down to her thigh. James very carefully kept his eyes on her face and properly wrapped her in the blankets. “Should you not wear something warmer?” he said. “It could not be healthy for you to take a chill.”

Elizabeth gave him a stern look. As if that is likely in the Caribbean spring. “I will rely on you to keep me warm,” she said as she discarded the excess covers. She tilted her head up for a kiss and relaxed as his arms came around her. His kisses now are less intense that this afternoon but they are certainly warming. And pressed close to him she can feel that he does want her even if he will not say so. He slipped one hand to her backside then froze and moved it nearly immediately. “James, it is alright,” she told him softly. “I want to be close to you, I want. . .” she trailed off. She wanted to tell him she wanted more but part of her hesitated to tell a lie about something so important. It not so much that she actually wanted more but she does not mind if he does. She knew enough not to say that to them though. She pressed a kiss to his neck. “I want to touch you,” she said. She ran one hand down his chest over his nightshirt until she had a grip on his manhood through the material. Surely if she wanted to touch him he will take that as him having permission to return the favour. He inhaled sharply at her touch and his hand settled on her again as he leaned to kiss her, his breath shakey.

It was easy enough to slip her hand under his nightshirt to grip him properly now she had his tacit permission. She never did this for Will but how hard can it be. Every time she moved her hand he seemed to hold her tighter and she thought that could only be a good sign. She felt his hips twitch, just before he broke the kiss and gasped her name, “God, Elizabeth - that - you needn’t,” he exhaled sharply, yet he has barely said that before he pushed himself into her hand again and again. “Please” he murmured into her hair and then he hissed her name and his hips still as she felt his seed coat her hand, his breath still quick and he groaned when she teased him just a bit more. She wiped her hand on his night shirt and leant to kiss him only to find him blushing which she found adorable. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. ‘I've not done so poorly with self control since I was a green boy.”

Elizabeth kissed him sweetly. “I was going to take it as a compliment,” she assured him. No doubt given her circumstances he does not expect her to be unsure in such matters. His hand slipped from her backside to her inner thigh, moving up and she froze then confused. Surely he was done? But stiffening in his arms is a mistake and he pulled back to look at her with concern. That she didn’t like at all and she cuddled into his arms. “Goodnight James,” she said softly offering a smile and she held her breath until he relaxed again, pressed a kiss to her hair and held her close.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and James settle into married life (with a few hiccups.)

James had not slept easily on the second night of his marriage. If Elizabeth had not seemed so settled beside him her might not have slept at all. Her peaceful night had reassured him a little. He had wanted to believe her when she had said last night was what she _wanted_ but her reaction when he had tried to return the favour had gave him pause. So he regretted that he allowed it. It probably was not the best idea to let things between him and Elizabeth become confused. He had married her to give her a proper situation. A father for her child. Not to take advantage of her.

He had woken early again and managed not to disturb her this time. It seemed after last night there was little point trying to hide his reaction to her. She was curled in his arms, her breathing steady and soft. It was odd to see her so still and peaceful both of which seemed quite unnatural on her.- he was much too used to her being a force of nature that never so much as sat still. He shifted slightly to rest his hand on her stomach while doing his best not to wake her. He felt after her permission it was at least safe to touch her there and it would perhaps settle the need he had to be close to her. She did not seem to mind though she stretched a little and incidentally freed his other arm she had been laid on before she stilled again. This meant he was free to rise without disturbing her and yet he watched her sleep for sometime unable to tear himself away. Her hair was fanned over the pillow looking like golden silk and the shift (which did not seem to him to be suited for a woman in her condition) had ridden up almost obscenely high on her slender pale legs. Nor could he try and cover her for if she woke and he was fussing with her night gown, it would seem he had ignored her discomfort the night before and resorted to molesting her in her sleep.

 

It was only once he left the bed to dress that she stirred. He was dressed by the time she had sat up sleepily and she blinked at him when he came over to press a kiss to her hair. It hung around her face in loose curls and James couldn’t help put be put in mind of her wild and windswept when they had recovered her from the rum runners island. She had thankfully rearranged her nightdress so it was not in danger of baring her hips but having pulled the damn thing down, it had slipped over one shoulder to expose the collar bone and the upper slope of one breast. He sits beside her on the bed and leaned into kiss her for all his resolve he could not resist her that much. “Do you feel well? Would you like a tray sent?” he asked. She had not wanted anything yesterday but her symptoms seemed to come and go.

“No,” she said, after a moment of consideration. “If you are going to be out all day again, I’ll get up.” James was well aware of the hours Elizabeth was prone to keep - though her father’s stories about his daughter being a slug a bed had ceased the instant James had shown the slightest interest in courting her. So it touched him a little that she would alter her schedule for him. 

“You do not have to,” he assured her. “I know you need your rest and . .” He was cut off by a glare.

“I am not an invalid, James,” she said exasperated. “I slept very well last night. If you do not wish to breakfast with me you have only to say.”

“I did not mean,” he started to protest but Elizabeth has slipped out of bed and stomped back to her own room in a huff. Now he had no idea whether she would join him at breakfast or not.

 

She had in the end found him in the dining room and took a seat by him. She drank three cups of coffee without any food before finally she picked at a pastry without much appetite. He knew better than to expect her to be sorry for her temper and if she expected him to be sorry for his concern, best she learn now he will not apologise for it.

He got up to bid her farewell and was surprised to be offered a proper kiss. He thought it was as close to an apology as he was likely to get and he returned it hopefully. “Have a good day, Elizabeth,” he said. “If you feel up to it - do try to eat something that isn’t confectionary.”

She laughed. “I am promising nothing,” she told him. “So bear that in mind when you are buying my ginger!”

It was at least a relief to know of something he could do to please her.

 

When he returned that night he expected she would be in the garden again but he found her in the parlour at a writing desk he had said she could have for her own - the sheet of paper set out in front of her was entirely blank and she looked unhappy. There was a smudge of ink on her face and several ruined pens had been discarded.

“Is something amiss?” he said concerned.

“No,” she said, which was clearly a lie. “It is nothing James.” He did not want to push - he should allow her some privacy and he handed over a packet of sweets causing her to smile and slip out of her chair to fuss with his jacket and check his pockets. When she has found the extra ginger he bought and an a package of peppermints he had bought on a whim, she leaned up to kiss him. “I had a proper lunch,” she offered out of nowhere and he was pleased she had thought to reassure him. “My father called and we ate together. I thought he would go a little longer before he missed me.”

James cannot see why - her father has always doted on her and she had been away at sea long enough. “He is always welcome,” he said. “Why don’t you invite him to dinner -” it would be easy for him to miss the hint of a frown if he had not been watching her so intently. “Did he upset you?” he asked concerned.

“I thought he would forgive me,” she said. “Now I am married. I’m not leaving - I shan’t disgrace him.” She shrugged.”And he has of course. He doesn’t scold or berate me. But he looked at me differently still. I didn’t realise when I was still at home. But today it was obvious.”

 

James was a little thrown. His own relationship with his parents – well he will not be looking to his father as an example of how to parent. But Elizabeth and her father have always seemed so close. “Perhaps it is only that things have changed, Elizabeth. Your father obviously wanted to see you. It must be odd for him, he may have been planning for your marriage for years but I don’t think he really wanted to part with you.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “I know I have to be better. More proper.” James wanted to deny it but he knew it was not untrue, marriage will only go so far in salvaging her reputation, after her arrest and second longer stint in the company of pirates. And that was before people find out she was with child and speculate about the timing of that. At least in public she must be circumspect for the sake of her reputation and her father’s peace of mind.

“Only in public,” he said gently. “At home, you are free to lie in the garden all day and read pirate novels and eat nothing but sweets.”

This at least won him a smile. “You have a very poor understanding of my ambitions,” she told him with mock severity.

“Yes, I know,” he admitted. “That’s been made quite clear.” He paused. “But I would like to know – what it is you do want?”

“Nothing too ambitious,” she said. “I’ve given up on wanting the impossible. Don’t worry, James. I just want to get through this pregnancy – be a good wife, a good mother. Perhaps not a total social outcast.”

“I cannot see why any of that should be an issue for you,” he assured her. “You are a good wife. I know you will be a good mother. And you will not be an outcast.” He paused. He does not want to push her yet. “But there must be something more you want?”

 

“Nothing that would not be at odds with the afore mentioned goals,” she said wistfully. “I can hardly play at swords and being a proper lady.” James paused. He knew of course that Will Turner had taught her to handle a blade - the Governor had tried to be discrete in his complaints about his new future son in law - Elizabeth would not have stood for less and of course he had had to be even more circumspect with his former future son in law and the one exception had been when Elizabeth had come home bruised from one of Turner’s lessons. James had been shocked at the time but when she had fled to sea after her aborted wedding day he had felt better knowing that she could defend herself if necessary.

“Well you could hardly play at swords at all in your condition,” he said and he saw a spark of temper cross her face but she did not snap at him - they both knew that was true. “But I think a gun should have no detrimental effects,” there was some recall on even the finest pistol but that should not matter if he taught her to stand correctly. “I am sure with practice you could be quite the markswoman.”

“James,” she said quietly and there was real want in her voice there and something else. “Please don’t mock me.” She looks away and he was appalled that she looked so hurt.

“Elizabeth, I would never,” he said gently, taking her hand and stung that she would take his words so. “I mean it. I will teach you to shoot,” he paused. Who knew what she had done at sea. “If you should need to learn and gift you with a pistol of your own and as much gunpowder and shot as you like for practice.” She would have to practice in their garden and the servants would talk of course but what does he care for that if it made her happy.

 

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment. “Well,” she said. “It’s a little mean to get me _a_ pistol,” she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. “I am only a feeble woman but I was under the impression they tended to come in pairs.” She was unable to hide her smile making the scold rather feeble.

“Indeed,” he said seriously. “Quite remiss of me, a pair of pistols it is then.” She flung herself at him and he caught her up in his arms to accept the kiss she bestowed on him.

“Thank you,” she said softly - it was thanks enough to see the true pleasure on her face. “You truly don’t mind?” 

“No,” he said. “No I don’t mind. I would prefer it - I will not always be home and we have learnt once that the Caribbean is not always as civilised as we would like. I would like to know you can defend yourself if I am not here.”

“Hmm,” she said clearly unconvinced yet not willing to argue out of being indulged in this fashion. “And I shall be able to do all my target practice by picturing those who gossiped about me.” She looks so smug at this thought that he was amused even though he should not be.

“As long as all you are doing is imagining it.” he said pretending to be severe - he was only laughed at for his troubles.

 

Elizabeth ate a proper meal that night - though the sweet she has served was a steamed ginger pudding that is far too heavy for the rest of the meal but she seems to relish it. James was prepared to see it regularly on the menu if it helps her illness.

After dinner she abandoned him to head back to the writing desk to her blank note. He cannot help but ask. “Have you received an invite?” Surely there would be no difficulty in penning a response to something like that - and it would only be a good sign if she had though sooner than he thought. Society will accept Elizabeth now she was wed but he does not think they will do it without a little reluctance.

“Hardly,” she said, her tone arch and he realised she was if not upset at least irritated by the exclusion. Ironic considering her steadfast disdain for society that had only become apparently to him after their engagement ended. “I was going to write a note of introduction - so that you could include it when you wrote to your family. But I realised there is nothing I could say about myself that would not appall them.”

 

James knew what she thought would often be true. No doubt most families would be perturbed to have a daughter in law with Elizabeth’s dubious past.

“I think there is plenty you could say that would not disturb them,” he said. “You may want to focus on our long acquaintance, your interest in my career and some sort of frippery about your hobbies or accomplishments,” he said. “None of that is untrue.” He took her hand. “But if it makes you feel any better you could write the entire history of acquaintance and my mother wouldn’t care because I have finally married after years of scolding and my father won’t care for anything but your family name and father’s position regardless of what you write.” His mother’s letters had been full of admonishments to marry since he had made Captain and the odd post scripts his father added on occasion were impersonal at best with helpful advice such as if James’ was going to lower himself to offer for some colonial merchants daughter that she had better be well dowered.

Elizabeth smiled and kissed his cheek. “Alright then if you are going to be so sensible,” she said. “I suppose I shall leave out being marooned. And my arrest. And my imprisonment - or when I threatened Lord Beckett at gunpoint.” He blinked - she had done what? He knew she had been held in gaol like a common prisoner when Beckett had interrupted her wedding - something that made his blood boil even if now he found it hard to regret that her nuptials to Turner had been interrupted. James’ had not been in Port Royal at the time - he had found it convenient to not be on land on the date Elizabeth’s wedding had been planned. By the time the Dauntless had returned to Port Royal - Elizabeth and Turner had both fled, Governor Swann had written to England and called in every political favour he could and Beckett had never actually managed to take James’ into custody - he had left when the return of the Dauntless meant his ship was no longer the power in these waters. Cutler Beckett did not like to pick a fight when he did not have the advantage.

“Perhaps that would be best,” he said. “Though you are welcome to tell me more about that last if you like.”

“When you have bought me my pistols, I will be able to act out the whole thing for you,” she said. James lets her evade in this fashion if she wanted to - it was still a mental image he liked very much and no more than Beckett deserves. Still Elizabeth abandoned the note again and came to his side. “I’ll write that tomorrow,” she said. “I have nothing but time during the day. Perhaps we could retire.”

“Of course if you are tired.” James was relieved by her suggestion - she needed her rest of course and if she was tired, she would hopefully not feel obligated to entertain him in some fashion that she had no real interest in. His relief was short lived as he was immediately disabused of this notion when she told him.

“No I’m not tired at all.” She kissed him then soft and sweet and beyond tempting. “I shall see you upstairs.”

 

James waited a long moment before he ascended to what had become their bedroom - he knew that if they discussed this and he told her she needn’t she would be offended. He almost regretted his offer of pistols and lessons. Not because he didn’t want her to have them but because now she had yet more reason to be grateful. 

Even with his delay, Elizabeth was not yet in his room when he entered. Undressing for her was no doubt a tad more complicated than for him for all the layers of his uniform, he was not trussed into it. Thinking of Elizabeth undressing and her undergarments was a mistake of course when he wanted to keep some distance between them. It distracted him enough that he had only removed his jacket and wig by the time Elizabeth appears. She wore another pretty shift, the material so fine that in the lamp light he could near see through it and he almost regretted lighting the lamps. Almost - he was not a saint. It only got worse when his near dressed state meant Elizabeth decided to help him. She fussed over the buttons of his waistcoat and unfastened his breeches and he caught up her hands before it got too out of hand. “You needn’t,” he said. “Elizabeth I do not expect. . . “

“I want to,” she told him firmly. “Why do you not believe me?”

He can only offer her honesty then. “Last night - you said you wanted to. But you did not want me to touch you.”

She smiled at him then and kissed him. “Well you were finished! You can touch me now if it please you.”

 

James does not know what he found most befuddling about that statement - the sheer lack of sense in it or the offer that was more tempting than anything else he had ever encountered. He picked Elizabeth off her feet and carried her to the bed uncaring that he was still half dressed. “I was rather intending to please _you_ ,” he told her as he pressed her down to the bed with kisses and let his hands roam. She does not freeze when he skimmed a hand up her thigh this time and he was beyond relieved to find her wet - she did have some want for him then. Or for intimacy he allowed. She had some notion of what she was about. “Do you want to tell me what you like?” he said softly. He does not mean to scold her for her experience but instead give her some control over this.

“I don’t know,” she said in a small voice, “I like kissing,” she offered and he would have smiled at that but her voice is breathy and confused and he was starting to suspect that he had discovered another area in which Will Turner had neglected her as he brushed his thumb over her most sensitive spot and slipped a finger inside her, she stiffened in his arms and he stopped at once.

“Not that?” he said carefully. He had never wanted anything more in his life than to please her and for her to be willing and so he watched her as closely as he could stand it.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she snapped hotly, and he was startled by her sudden temper and she squirmed away from him. “Or what you are doing. Pleasure in bed is for men.”

“What?” he said shocked and incredulous. “Elizabeth that isn’t true. Women can feel pleasure in bed just as much as men.”

She shook her head in a rather vicious denial of this sentiment. “What do you think women get out of intimacy then?” he asked stymied. That Elizabeth was willing but not willing to enjoy this was not something he ever saw coming.

“Pregnant,” she said with a note of bitterness. “Men like it. Women get babies. That’s how it works.”

James did not know where to start with that and he tried to pull her close. “Elizabeth - it really isn’t.” She was blushing now a hot flush that was spreading down her chest as well as heating her face and she looked miserable. “Would you like me to show you?” he said. She shook her head and he nodded and rubbed at her back in an attempt to offer some comfort. “Alright - we can just sleep I don’t expect -”

 

“I think I will sleep in my own room tonight,” she interrupted quietly. “Do you want me to . . . are you still?” she glanced down at his unfastened breeches to make clear what she offered and he recoiled at the thought - his arousal had fled when she had squirmed away from him and he had feared again that this was all obligation. It may well have been, he thought morosely, given she had no notion she could get anything from it herself.

“No,” he said. “Of course not, Elizabeth. I want nothing between us that is not mutual.”

She nodded then took a deep breath and brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Good night, James,” she said in a tone he had never heard from her before. She shut the adjoining door firmly behind her as she went. It took him sometime after she had gone to place the note in her voice as embarrassment. Elizabeth had always been so shameless. This was a complication he had not seen coming and it was a long time before he slept - he stared at the closed door and wondered if she was alright - he could not bring himself to deny her privacy on top of everything else that had so rapidly gone wrong.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth reconsiders her position on intimacy (but with v poor timing)

Elizabeth threw herself on her bed, her cheeks burned with _humiliation_. She could not believe she had argued with James about intimacy of all things. He probably thought her a complete ninny. What a joke. He had married a woman who was utterly _ruined_ and yet who still knew nothing it seemed. She buried her face in the pillow and told herself she was not going to cry. Not over something as silly as sex. That she didn’t even want. That she had only been willing to offer James so he would see her. Really see her. Except she was stating to think that he did see her and now she had acted a complete fool in front of him. And he must think her foolish because for all she had argued with him, she knew now he was right. While nothing she had previously experienced had been at all pleasant, the way James had touched her had felt good.  If she had not been so startled by the notion and put off by her own ignorance she could have let him carry on with the way he touched her - the thought made her shiver and she bit her lip. 

 

Before she had laid with Will she had always assumed it would feel good to be with him. Every time she had kissed him she had wanted more even if she hadn’t known what it was she wanted. But it hadn’t been what she eventually got when they had preempted their wedding vows. She pushed aside thoughts of Will. It does not help thinking on him. It only made her angry or sometimes sad and angry and surely being sad was disloyal now she was married. She had given James her word and she meant to keep it this time.  Being angry does not make her feel guilty but was not as if she had an outlet for her temper. 

 

She curled up in bed for a long while she sulked,  cross and frustrated with herself. She did not think she was going to sleep at all at this rate though after a while she does decided to change. The pretty nightshift had seemed very effective before she had spoiled things by being nervous. And argumentative.  Once she’d changed  into a old plain soft nightgown she smiled a little. No doubt James would be pleased if he knew, convinced as he was that the child was going to take some sort of chill if she was not throughly covered. 

 

Then she sat on the window seat and stared out at the night, she could read of course - she had a lamp. Perhaps Sir Walter Raleigh could put her to sleep but in the end she decided that just because she had retreated in cowardly fashion it didn’t mean she had to stay a coward. James’ will no doubt be asleep by now and she can sleep in his arms without having to explain herself. Because that isn’t cowardly at all, she scolded herself wryly. 

 

He stirred when she slipped into his arms - he had not on their wedding night and he blinked at her in the dark. She leaned up to kiss him. “I changed my mind,” she said. “Go back to sleep I did not mean to disturb you.” He tightened his hold on her and brushed a kiss to her hair. 

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep. 

 

“I’m fine,” she said. “I promise. Go back to sleep.” 

 

He seemed unconvinced but he nodded and relaxed beside her. And when he did she finally slept too. 

 

She woke as she had many times of late - with the sudden knowledge she was going to vomit. She squirmed out of James’ arms - he had one hand on her stomach again. But she pushed him off her before he got a deeply unpleasant awakening and  rushed back to her own room to lose last night’s supper in her wash basin. She found herself distracted by the pattern on the china but then she’d rather think of anything but the smell of vomit, the way her stomach roiled and the bitter taste of stomach acid. 

 

“Are you alright?” James’ voice startled her, and yet she could not reply - she was otherwise occupied. When she had nothing left to throw up she looked up to see him standing in the doorway worry written across his face and sighed - why on Earth was he watching this. “Is the ginger no good?” he asked. “Should we go back to the tea?” 

 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think it can be prevented entirely. Pregnant women just have to suffer it.” She was not best pleased by it but everyone knows that. 

 

“It is a particularly strange symptom,” he said. “Surely you need extra food for the child - not to lose what you do manage to eat.” 

 

“Never mind,” she said. “It does not go on forever.” He has not moved from the doorway and while she would prefer he not witness her vomiting at least he hasn’t come any closer. “I’m sure it will stop and then  I’ll be fat with child soon enough.” He clearly was looking forward to that given the attention he pays her flat stomach. “Can you ring for my maid - I want a bath.” And a fresh wash basin. James went at once to summon her maid. Of course by the time the maid deals with the mess, brings Elizabeth lemon water to rinse her mouth and a clean wash basin to wash her face - the water was still heating for her bath. And James no doubt had left for the fort already. Which at least spared her any further discussion about last night. She does not think they are done with that though - she would like to be. She’d prefer to pretend it never happened at all. She knew of course she could probably have her way in that - if she refused to talk about it then James would give way. But who knows what he must think of her now and pretending won’t fix that. 

 

When she was bathed and dressed, she decided she was not going to lay about the garden today - for all she has permission. She has not been to town in the few weeks since she arrived home given her disgrace and perhaps it would be nice to go out. She could buy her own sweets or find something intriguing at the book shop. And perhaps she might even find something to surprise James with. She had not even given him a wedding present and she should remedy that. 

 

In the end, Elizabeth’s day was not exactly as planned. She was cut directly twice in the street - but only by those who will consider her marriage to James a personal affront given they have marriageable daughters who reputations are not mud who have been passed over. Elizabeth thought they would regret it when they are not invited to the next event at the Governor’s House. Everyone else was quite polite and it was strangely pleasant to have every officer who spots her hurry over to tip his hat to her and wish a good day to Mrs. Norrington. It was not even hard to get used to the new name really. 

 

When Elizabeth was sixteen and not yet out and barely allowed near James or any other man for that matter, (a tactic her father probably regrets dropping,) she had filled pages in her diary with practiced signatures of Elizabeth Norrington.  Though James had not been the only infatuation she had had who had made it in there as potential husband, he had definitely lasted the longest due to her long acquaintance and the rather dashing figure he cut in his uniform. Ironically the only one who hadn’t made it to her diary was Will - not because Elizabeth hadn’t fancied him but because while Elizabeth had always hidden her diary, she had also suspected her governess of  finding and reading it. Interest in Will  would have been taken straight to her father. Interest in eligible gentleman would not result in a scolding. Elizabeth had contented herself with a litany of rather unfair complaints and criticisms of the governess – who had been generally tiresome even without Elizabeth’s suspicions, content that if she was reading she could not defend herself without admitting her crime. Which had helped pass what at the time had seemed the longest summer of Elizabeth’s life as she waited for her debut. Elizabeth thinks this summer might seem nearly as long if pregnancy continues to be as tiresome as it was now.

 

She cannot buy anything for the baby yet even if she would like too. It would be hard enough to try and pretend it was an early child without her shopping for baby paraphernalia when they are barely wed. Yet she does sneak a glance at a few things. Surely most new brides are hopeful of being with child soon. And Elizabeth should be more so given how grateful people will expect her to be. Everyone except James apparently. 

 

She buys another fancy nightgown - it was more lace than material and though it was overly frothy, she thinks the affect might be pleasing. Or at least distracting. She acquired two new books - one on running a household and a cook book. She was barred from the kitchens at her father’s house based on several disasters when she was younger but she could be more domestic now. She does consider a rather torrid romance wondering if it might give her a better idea of what to expect without having to discuss it with James but she decided against it. Novels were never that accurate and god knew she did not want to be more ignorant. 

 

She was no further forward on a gift for James but it was an otherwise pleasant day. She headed home pleased, only to find James came home early and then she felt guilty for not being there. For a moment anyway. But she had not done anything wrong - he had not said he would back sooner and he had not asked her to dance attendance on him. But it does seem a wasted opportunity and she abandoned her packages to sit to tea with him. He seemed a little distant and Elizabeth worried for a moment that he has not forgiven her last night when another explanation was forthcoming. 

 

“I wanted to see you before I left,” he said. And she was startled, surely he was not sailing already? This must have shown though as he quickly went on. “I have orders to go to Morant Bay – there is to be a court martial and they don’t want only local officers. I should only be a few days.” He reached for her hand. “I am sorry about the timing. I will take leave as soon as I return.”

 

Elizabeth tried to hide her disappointment. “You will have to leave soon, or you’ll be riding all night,” she said softly.

 

“Yes,” he admitted. “I know. And I have not had a chance to buy your pistols and . .” 

 

He looked so guilty that she has to interrupt.  “Well they wouldn’t be much use to me without those lessons I was promised.” This was untrue - she could handle a pistol just fine but it seemed to relax him and Elizabeth rather liked the idea of him showing her how to shoot. He smiled relieved and leaned into kiss her. She held tightly to him and returned the kiss. She was not sure where the rather improper notion came from but as soon as she thought it, it seemed the perfect solution. He did not have time to discuss this with her now so she could just admit she did want to know and then all she had to do was wait for him to come home. “And I would like the other lesson too,” she said. “When you are home.” He looked puzzled. “On how to be pleased,” she said. “If you still want to show me.” James kissed her then hard and pulled her against him. 

 

“Of course I will show you,” he said, in a low rumble and she can hear the want in his voice. “But perhaps your lessons might include just how wicked it is to tell me that when I am about to spend _hours_ in the saddle.”

“Oh,” she said her cheeks pink. She had not thought of that but she still cannot help but tease him. “Well if you want to teach me to be _wicked_ James on your own head be it.” She cannot at all promise she would not have said something just because it was wicked. It was more likely to be the other way around. This does at least make him laugh and he left her with a smile and a kiss and a complaint about the length of the journey. Elizabeth can only hope this leave that he had requested would be granted. She was starting to get quite resentful of having to share her husband.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gets a very warm welcome home :)

James had pushed the horse on the way home - just a little. He had wanted to get home before dinner to surprise Elizabeth rather than arriving after dark when it was late and she had retired. He had not quite made it but it was not quite nightfall when he arrived. It made him a little uneasy - he had not meant to return home just she went to bed - she could think he had timed that deliberately given the farewell, she had given him. He had thought about her request of course. If the court martial and subsequent hangings had not been so unpleasant he would have thought of nothing else. But now he was home and he had been granted the leave he had requested and he meant to make it clear to Elizabeth they had time. She did not have to rush herself if she was unsure. He thought now he had the time off duty he would only leave her side to source the promised pistols. Or if she wanted him to leave her be of course. He would not want to crowd her.

 

That was not the impression he received when he arrived home though. He had barely called her name when she appeared in the parlour doorway and then nearly threw herself into his arms. “You’re home,” she said delighted and leaned up to kiss him thoroughly. He could hardly have anticipated a warmer welcome home and he leaned into the kiss, his thoughts of restraint cast aside as she coaxed his mouth open with her tongue. He nipped her lower lip in return and held her tightly to him. He would never have noticed they were not alone if there had not been a cough and he pulled back to find Governor Swann watching them and he was mortified. “Good evening sir,” he said stiffly. “I did not realise we had company,” Elizabeth of course, does not so much as blush at how she has behaved in front of her father.

 

“My father has been very good about keeping me company in your absence,” she said cheerfully. “But he was just leaving.”

 

The Governor cleared his throat and blinked at his daughter and James knew at once Elizabeth was lying. But her father only indulged her. “Yes quite - most unfortunate timing. Early meetings you know. It’s good to have you home my boy, you both will have to join me for dinner. Very soon.” Elizabeth managed to look entirely innocent as she saw her father out.

 

The instant he was gone she turned back to him and he pulled away. “There was no need to do that,” he said. “I hardly mind you spending time with your father and I am hardly fit company. I must reek of horse and I need to shave.”

 

“You are always fit company. and you do not reek,” she said. “Nor need to shave.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek and brushed her face against his. He could only imagine how rough the stubble felt on her soft skin and he pulled away. “I rather like this,” she said. “It makes you look roguish.”

 

“It will give you a rash,” he said touching her cheek and then checks himself. “If we kiss that is - it would irritate your skin.”

 

“Oh alright,” she said. “Let me order a bath and hot water for you. But you can at least sit with me while they are prepared. I _missed_ you. You said a few days - you have been gone a _week_.” She paused suddenly as if she had just recalled the reason for his absence. “Was it very awful?”

 

James supposed news of the verdict would have reached Port Royal before he did - the court martial had ended two days ago but he had stayed for the hangings.

 

“It was difficult,” he said. “These things are always are.” The last thing he wanted to do was go over it again and Elizabeth thankfully seemed to take his meaning.

 

“Come and sit down,” she said as she took his hand and led him into the parlour. “I’ll pour you a drink.”

 

James had only been gone a week and yet he found himself startled by the change to the parlour. It certainly looked lived in - there was a brightly patterned quilt over the back of the lounge - hung slightly askew. There appeared to be a book on every flat surface, some with bookmarks, others well on their way to a broken spine and others that appeared unread. More astonishingly there was what appeared to be a basket of knitting by the fireplace or a least a basket of wool and needles but there appeared to be a single piece of knitting on the top, which made him rather desperately curious. He could see one of her fancy embroidered shoes that had been kicked under a chair and a barrel of biscuits had appeared on the side dresser. And over the fireplace the painting that had been there - a rather generic landscape of some English countryside had been replaced with a more dramatic landscape featuring the view of the sea from Fort Charles.

 

She poured him a generous serving of brandy - he could see a half drunk glass as further evidence her father had not actually been about to leave but he did not pursue it turning back to the fireplace. She followed his gaze to the painting. “Do you like it?” she said. “I thought it would be nice to have the same view as you when I am home and you are at the fort. But it was only once it I had it hung I thought perhaps you might consider it dull when you see it all the time.”

 

“No,” he said, touched by the sentiment. “I think it’s lovely, besides I do not get too much time to admire the view at the fort.”

 

“No, I suppose not,” she said. “I’m glad it meets your approval.” She nudged another shoe under an end table and moved one of the piles of books out of his eye line - none of which he actually missed. Then he realised his perusal of the room had been taken in completely the wrong fashion.

 

“I like all of it,” he assured her and pressed another kiss to her cheek. “I’m glad you feel at home, Elizabeth - I wanted that.” He liked seeing evidence of her everywhere he looked in this room even if he suspected she was giving the staff fits.

 

She relaxed a little and abandoned her rather obvious attempts to surreptitiously tidy around him “Well I cannot keep my books in the garden,” she said. “After I have spent my day out there eating sweets.”

 

They both laughed and James found it hard to drag himself away from her to go and clean himself up. And when he was alone he could not help but think on what was to come. Part of him selfishly could not deny a thrill that he would be first to please her.

 

Yet he could not help but be concerned that she had spoken of parting acrimoniously from Turner and come away not only unsatisfied but under the impression that pleasure was something that didn’t happen for women at all. What on earth had the boy done to her - the thought had James’ temper on edge. Elizabeth had said repeatedly she wanted to be close - but he could not see why and the suspicion she was only offering this out of some sort of duty or worse gratitude lingered. Perhaps Turner had treated her in such a way she felt such things were expected of her.

 

When he was done though he found Elizabeth’s presence stamped all over his bedroom as well - more books on the bedside table along with half a packet of crystallised ginger and a robe slung casually over a chair that had not been their before. Bits of jewellery were scattered haphazardly over his dresser and he could smell the light lemon and oleander perfume she had worn for their wedding but not to his knowledge since though they had only had a few days together. He found himself pleased if she had slept here in his absence and suddenly more hopeful. There was no need for her to do that if she had not wanted to.

 

She joined him a moment later, her hair lose and the while the night gown she wore seemed less provocative than the others until he realised it unlaced nearly all down the front and she had loosened the ribbon on it already so he could see a strip of pale skin and picture just how easily he could see more.

 

She looked a little shy though and his doubt flared and he decided as much as he did not want details. As much as he did not want to pry - he had to confirm she had not been _hurt_ in the past.

 

He coaxed her into sitting by him and started hesitantly. “Elizabeth I do not mean to pry,” he said. “Your past is _yours_ and I do not hold it against you.” She did not pull away or look angry. “But I know you said you parted badly from Mr Turner. And now you have said . . . you have implied only men enjoy bedding and I would hate to think - if you were _hurt_ in some fashion that,” he was not making himself clear at all and their was anger in his tone at the very thought of her being abused in that fashion. “Such things should be mutual.”

 

What he was saying dawned on her then and she pulled away from him. “Will did not force me,” she said sharply with an intake of breath. After a long moment she got up from the bed to pace and then she told him. “It was my idea. Foolish I know. You’ll think me shameful but I had tried at least half a dozen times to get him to anticipate the wedding night and he had always said no. That he respected me too much. I suppose in truth I should have thought about what that meant when he finally said yes. And then . . .”

 

She paused as if it was difficult to carry on and he had the answer he wanted really. “You do not have to tell me,” he said. “I just worried.”

 

“No,” Elizabeth said. “No it’s better you know. I think. Even if you despise me for it.” He was silent because while he condemned himself for it - he did want to know. Even if only to reassure himself that they would not see Turner again if things ended so badly. Elizabeth fussed with her shift for a moment and then told him. “By the time - it had happened I had been at sea with Jack for some time and Will had - Will had been otherwise occupied and distracted. By the time we ended up on the Black Pearl together I thought it would be better but it wasn’t and the longer we sailed the worse it got. We were angry at each other. He accused me of fancying Jack Sparrow. And I wanted him to put me first.” Elizabeth came back to bed and took his hand thought she could barely look at him when she continued. “I think I suggested he bed me as a rather last ditch attempt to improve things.” She flushed and sounded rueful when she told him. “Obviously it did not.” Her voice dropped a little. “It was just _awful_ and then it just made things worse because . . . I didn’t bleed - even though he _hurt_ me and that made him suspicious and he accused me of lying and of being with Jack.”

 

She scowled and looked away - James was not fooled entirely by the frown marring her face - the deflowering was not all that had caused her pain and he cannot imagine what such an accusation must have felt like when she had given herself to a man who purported to love her and he felt furious at Turner all over again for mistreating her so. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he tried almost wincing at the endearment, which he had never used with her before, and he can’t imagine her liking but she offered him a small smile.

 

“I haven’t finished,” she said. “I was so angry that I told him I had _hated_ it, that it had been awful and that he was terrible at it and perhaps I should have gone with Jack.” James managed not to wince at that but only just - he doesn’t have to imagine what a punch in a gut that would have been to Turner even if he ended up deserving it before Elizabeth shocked him by adding. “So then we tried again and it was even worse. Afterwards we had a proper shouting argument about it that was when he told me those things about women and we were so loud half the crew heard us. So every one knew and every time I went on deck I had one of them confirming women didn’t like it or only whores did or only unnatural women.” Her cheeks are pink now. “And I know they were just a load of rum soaked pirates but they are not the only ones who say that. All the advice I got from the older ladies at home said the same - that bedding was an uncomfortable experience and only worth it for the chance of children. The only one who said differently was Jack. He had a lot to say about the _all_ the women he had pleased in bed.” She paused and bit her lip and James thought he could see where this story was going even if he does not want to hear that Elizabeth was taken advantage of again. “So one night - we were nearly at Tortuga and I knew I meant to come home by then and that I was already ruined so I got stinking drunk and went to Jack’s cabin and challenged him to show me if he was so skilled.” James was shocked now but he can see that she expected him to be and he pressed a kiss to her hair - should he tell her again she does not have to share this with him? Or let her get it out. He doesn’t want to hear about her sharing Sparrow’s bed but he had asked for her past - and perhaps he had expected Sparrow would feature somehow. He was surprised and relieved - beyond relieved when she continued. “But I was so drunk he turned me down,” she said and there was a slight smile in her voice. “He kissed me and gave me his bed and spent the night at the wheel. He told me he’d be glad to show me anything I would like if I should ask again sober or at least not so drunk I could barely stand.”

 

“That was gentlemanly of him,” James said, carefully and of course with great difficulty. Which must have been obvious in his voice or in the way he set his jaw because she grinned cheekily at him.

 

“It was,” she said. “Of course, Jack did announce repeatedly the next day that his performance would have been wasted on me when I was not in possession of my full wits. While praising himself for his defence of my virtue – such as it was. And so the whole crew knew including Will so he got more unpleasant and I got quite a few more offers.” She made a face. “And I think Jack regretted it a bit if the morose way he bid me farewell in Tortuga was any indication.” She turned quiet for a moment. “Will did not even say farewell,” she admitted and instinctively James held her a little closer - she leaned into him as if she approved and he was glad he was a comfort of a sort. “But I may have decided Jack turned me down because he was all talk. That it would still be unpleasant. Then as I told you - on the way home I had it confirmed. Women get babies.” He slides his hand over her stomach. She has said that in that tone before and he wonders just how she feels about the child. And perhaps now might be a good time to ask. Except before he can she reminds him of exactly why she was here in his bed again. “But you told me it could be pleasant,” she reminded him. “That you would please me.”

 

“Yes,” he said, his voice a little dry. “I would, Elizabeth - I want to show you.” He wants so many things for her - with her. But this she has asked for. He leaned into to kiss her and she held tightly to him. “But there is no rush and if you are not comfortable you must say.”

 

“Alright!” she said. “But now you are hardly selling it either,” she pointed out. He laughed and kissed her again, let his hands drift down her back to her bottom and got a firm grip and pulled her into his lap. She kissed him back sweetly as he stood and lifted her into his arms. He settled her properly in the bed, sitting up against the pillows and while he hadn’t wanted to break the kiss he does not want his weight atop her so he settles beside her and let himself actually touch her. He smoothed one hand down her nightgown to the top of her thigh and holding tight to her hip as she leaned into kiss him. That was encouraging.

 

He kissed down her neck until his mouth was on her collarbone and he sucked gently at the soft skin there, which had her gasp. “More convincing? He asked her before he nuzzled gently at her neck.

 

“That’s just kissing,” she said stubbornly. “I know I like that.” He cannot hide his huff of amusement with his mouth pressed against his skin.

 

“So you do,” he said pushing at the widened collar of her night gown until her breasts were near exposed - he wondered if she was suitably _convinced_ he could get her out of the nightgown entirely. Perhaps he will leave that to her. He takes his time brushing kisses down the slope of one breast while he slipped his hand into her gown and cupped the other, brushing her nipple gently with one thumb. She breathed in sharply as he touched her and when she squirmed a little, he brushed a kiss to her other breast before he stopped teasing and covered her nipple with his mouth, she arched as he lapped at her until she whimpered and then he switched to sucking which prompted small needy gasps from her.

 

“James, _please,”_ she said and he lifted his mouth from her - she made a small noise of disappointment. “Don’t stop,” she scolded, pouting at him.

 

James could not help but smile at her as he tease her gently with his hand but doesn’t just lower his mouth just yet.

“But it’s just kissing,” he said. “You know you like kissing.”

 

“Impossible man,” she breathed, as she stared at him wide-eyed “I want more kissing.” And so he did as she asked and focussed his attention on one breast then the other until she arched under him again.

 

He seemed to get harder every time she whimpered his name and every sound of want she made was a gift he wanted more of. He slipped one hand up her nightgown to rest it on her softness between her legs. He raised his head before he dared touch her - this had been where it had gone wrong the first time he tried to please her. “More kissing?” he asked but she lifted her hips to push herself against his hand. He took his cue from that and slipped his fingers into her damp heat which made her moan - he let his touch roam to where she would need it most, working the sensitive nub of flesh gently. He varied the speed he touched her at and the way he rubbed at her trying to find what worked for her and he was amused but not at all surprised when she let him know in no uncertain terms with a grab at his wrist that nearly but not quite stilled his hand.

 

 

“Oh god,” she pleaded, her eyes fluttered closed. “Like that, James.” And of course he complied. In future perhaps he thinks - he _knows -_ he might like to drive her wild by showing her how it feels to ride the edge of that feeling and pull back from the brink and make it last. But not now, she had been denied long enough. So he stroked her just as she said until she cried his name and closed her legs tightly, trapping his hand as she shook with pleasure. He carried on touching her - more slowly and gently now as he coaxed her through the aftershocks of pleasure and trembled in his arms until she blurted, “I can’t,” and he stopped. He had not meant to push her and he was concerned. She was wide-eyed and wild haired beneath him and had she had never seemed more beautiful. But he had barely blinked and she had pushed him onto his back, her lips on his briefly before she peppered his face with kisses. Then she lay atop him and announced. “I think you may have to change careers, James. I am not sure I can possibly let you go to sea ever again.”

 

He laughed, he could not help but like the notion she wanted him close. He tangled a hand in her hair to pull her close. “I take it you are convinced then?” He had so wanted to please her and her breathless enthusiasm meant the world to him.

 

“Quite,” she said. “And if you give me a moment to catch my breath I will be able to show you just how convinced I am.” Her hand slipped down to stroke his cock, her grip on him more certain that her previous attempt to please him and he groaned at the touch. He had meant for tonight to be about her and he opened his mouth to say so but before he could say a word, she kissed him. “And do not start with, ‘I do not have to.’” she said firmly. “I still have a lot to learn.”

 

“If you learn much more,” he said as she ground herself against him while her hand played up and down his length. “I won’t be able to drag myself away from you to go to sea.”

 

“All the more incentive for me to learn,” she told him and she leaned forward to kiss at his neck, nipping hard and tugged at his shirt until he gave in and pulled it off over his head to her clear delight. “Please, James,” she said sweetly in a tone that he knew he was going to struggle to resist. “Perhaps we should see if you like kissing too,” she added. Then her mouth slipped from his neck to his chest her kisses brushing over him and winding him hotter and hotter until she startled him by taking him in her mouth.

 

“Christ, Elizabeth,” he swore, as he fisted his hands in the sheets. He wanted to wind his hands into her hair but he didn’t dare. He did not dare touch her at all while she was doing that because he did not think he could be gentle enough with her because she was driving him wild. Her mouth was hot and wet and for all his teasing about kissing he had _never_ expected this from her. But of course she would not care if this were improper - and right now neither did he. It was all he could do keep still under her attention as she tried her own variations to see what he liked, sucking then licking and trying some combination of both while her own small hand wound around the base of him. Every time he sucked in a breath, she glanced up at him and sucked a little harder and it only made it better that she was so smug about this. That she wanted this. But he was already wound so tight with pleasure that that thought was all it took to push him over the edge. It took every bit of restraint he had to pull her up to kiss him before he filled her mouth and instead spent all over his stomach, as he held tightly to her and groaned into her mouth. Elizabeth kissed him back soundly and when he broke the kiss she slipped off him and laid beside him until he pulled her close and she cuddled into his arms. He looked down at her fondly pleased to see her so content.

 

“You should probably know,” she said before she yawned. “The midwife has assured me that intimacy is perfectly suitable until at least October. She assumed my father would find me a husband and I would require that information.” James does not see how that can be true - how can it be good for the child but he cannot say that he knows more than a midwife. And he does at least know why she was telling him this. “So you needn’t think my lessons are over,” she said. “I want to be with you properly,” she added.

 

James does not respond at first. He knows better than to think he could deny her if she really wants something, and if she thinks it was suitable how can he gainsay her. “I’m not sure we could call it a lesson,” he said. “You are rather a quick study.” This makes her laugh and she went to sleep in his arms with a smile on her face. James plans to speak to the midwife as soon as possible, which was not soon enough for his liking as they have to wait until Elizabeth could have feasibly conceived after marriage to have the woman call - he was not the governor who could have the woman call without comment due to a household full of servants that included three married women. Even if she was right that it was suitable he bed her _now_ October seemed far too late to be carrying on. Surely if it were at all suitable it would only be until the child started to show. Normally this sort of concern would keep James up for some time – but it is much harder to worry when Elizabeth was a warm content weight in his arms and he felt like he’d taken steps towards actually making her happy.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and James spend a morning in bed discussing their shared history.

Elizabeth woke before James the next morning for the first time. He was still bare from the night before and she found herself examining him in the early morning light. His dark hair was mussed from sleep and he looked younger and more relaxed. Elizabeth would like to think she had something to do with that last - _she_ certainly felt relaxed.

 

She slid one hand over his chest and explored the play of muscle and the roughness of the marks his career had left on him. He stirred in his sleep as she touched him and pulled her tighter into his arms. She was surprised how much she liked that. How he wanted her close. She nuzzled his neck and pressed closely to him she could feel that he wanted her. The idea of morning intimacy appealed to her enormously but some part of her did not dare - the last thing she wanted was to be struck with her stomach affliction while they were entangled in some fashion. But it was very inconvenient to have to put it off.

 

Instead she pulled at the covers down a little further - looking over his muscled chest. She had never seen his scars up close. She ran her hand over a distinct round puckered mark she knew was a bullet wound. She remembered when he had gotten that one. He had been a lieutenant still and she had been thirteen - confined to the school room for the most part. He had called on her father with paperwork from the Admiralty just after the _Dauntless_ ’ return and she had seen his arm was in a sling from where she had been spying from the top of the staircase. Her father had been occupied and she had scampered down to ask if he had broken his arm. Elizabeth had broken hers when she was eight falling from a tree which had resulted in the firing of her nurse. James had always answered her questions honestly which had only encouraged her. So he had told her that he had been shot. He been completely unprepared for her curious questioning about bullet wounds. and had ended up flustered but had haltingly explained it was a clean wound - that the bullet had lodged in the muscle and not done much damage and he would be fine. Her father had come in just she had been asking if he had gotten to keep the bullet and if so could she see it. She had been shooed upstairs and scolded most vigorously by her father later that day.

 

He had three different pale thin lines that she knew could be from a sword or knife slashes and one of those looked especially nasty on his shoulder - he could have lost the arm if it had been much deeper so she decided it must have been a knife. The thought was upsetting though and she shivered against him. On his side was a group of irregular shaped scars - that she can’t quite work out as she traces over them gently. He woke and squirmed a little and than grabbed for her hand with a huff. “I’m sorry,” she said at once. “Do they still hurt?”

 

“No,” he assured her and she could hear laughter in his voice.

  
Then she realised and she laughed herself delighted. “You are ticklish,” she said as she smoothed a hand across his belly and ran her fingers over him to find another ticklish spot.

 

“Only on my shrapnel scars,” he said, before he rolled her over and leaned into kiss her. Which she liked but she would not be put off.

 

“Is that what that is?” she said in a soft voice and she vaguely recalled she thought - it had been one of his early successes when newly promoted. “From when you sunk the _Liberty_? I remember one of her cannons exploded when you tried to board her.”

 

“How do you know that?” he said startled, which only makes her more pleased with herself.

 

“One of your officers,” she said - it had been Lieutenant Groves who had told her. Elizabeth had liked the man very much as debutante because he often said more than he should and never seemed to realise he had said the wrong thing until it was too late. But she didn’t think it would help him if James knew that. “You didn’t attend the Prescott ball and I asked why. You led the boarding party instead of delegating it to a lieutenant.”

 

“And lost four men,” he said in a heavy tone. “They took the brunt of the blast.” This quieted them both for a long moment. But he was staring at her strangely now and she felt self conscious suddenly for all he was the one who was naked. “I did not realise,” he said. “That you would have cared enough to ask.”

 

“That’s unfair,” she said, eyes wide that he would say such a thing. “I asked you often enough for details of all your missions.”

 

“I know tales of sea battles interested you,” he said most straightforwardly. “I meant that you asked after my absence.”

 

Elizabeth felt both indignant and duly chastised by that point. His meaning was quite clear and while it may be that she deserved it she could not help but defend herself and squirmed out of his arms to give him a very firm look. “Did you know I had the biggest fancy for you at one point,” she said. Only to be annoyed by the cynical look she received in return. “I did!” she insisted. “I used to badger my father to invite you to dinner and he ignored me and you ignored whatever attempts to flirt I made - or didn’t notice.” James suddenly looked as if this was ringing a bell.

 

“Was this when you were sixteen,” he said and she could see a hint of smile at last. “And you used to swoon and get me to fetch you chocolate.” Elizabeth blushed - she may have forgotten that she had tried that particular technique with him. “Good lord,” he said. “I always thought chocolate was the aim of the particular game not that it had anything to do with me.”

 

“Just a bonus,” she said. “And it wasn’t all I did. I was nice to you - I know I was.” Or as nice as Elizabeth had been to anyone when she’d been sixteen and moody and frustrated with society or the lack of it because she was not yet introduced to it. “But you never showed any interest back and I was lectured so fiercely about being proper that I could not chase you. My governess used to imply that if if I so much as spoke to a man then my virtue would be suspect and then by the time I was out my father forbade me to speak to Will at all, and I was so angry at that I found myself drawn to him.” Elizabeth was adult enough to admit where that interest had started. It had been love by the end.  At least on her part. At least for a time. She will not go down that path of thought though because the thought of Will still hurt and James deserves her full attention. .

 

James seemed deep in contemplation himself now. “You realise if I had shown any interest before you were out then I’d have been thoroughly shunned,” he told her in his own defence. “By your father and society.”

 

“I know,” she said. “Though it was quite devastating at the time. But even when I was out other than dancing with me at my debut - I did not see any interest from you. For months - half the men of Port Royal were chasing my dowry but you never did. When Father said he’d given you permission to court me I was surprised you had even asked.” This did make him wince and she paused and reached for his hand - she was not trying to make him feel bad. But she thought it could only help to have this out in the open.

 

“Elizabeth,” he said - she can tell he was frustrated with her which somehow felt much worse than it had before. “Your debut was intended to introduce you to society. It would have been highly unfair of me to monopolise your time when I already knew you so well. But it does not mean I did not want to.” He paused and there was a long silence - she can tell he was hesitating over saying something. “I did not want you to marry me without being sure of your choice,” he said finally. “How could you be sure if you did not have the chance to socialise and meet other men.” His tone was stoic and she felt dreadful on his behalf. No wonder he gave her free from her engagement - she had made it so clear she was not sure.

 

“I know that,” she said. “Now. But then - I did not understand.” She decided to carry on, “You won’t believe this either,” her voice soft and a little rueful. “But I was excited when my father told me you were to court me. There were other men who’d asked his permission that I had _dreaded_ him saying yes to.”

 

“Who?” he said at once, his tone protective. And even that hint of jealousy was a relief. She seemed to be making things much worse but it won’t help to leave it.

 

“No-one that mattered,” she said - she refused to be distracted. The plantation heirs her father had turned down were not important. “I was pleased. You were handsome and dashing.” James gave her a rather outraged look at that, “ _are_ handsome and dashing,” she corrected. Surely he cannot doubt that she thought him handsome that given her rather wanton behaviour last night. “We were friends. I had grand plans that we’d spend our evenings reading and have a grand library and if I could never go to sea I could at least hear about when you did and I could wait at the docks to greet you after a tour and you’d never tell me off for not being interested in dresses or fashion. But then when the courting started  . . . ” she trailed off here not wanting to directly criticise.

 

“I came and talked to you about flowers and praised your fashion sense and ignored it when you tried to change the topic to books and the navy. I am well aware of where I went wrong,” James said quietly. “If there was anything I could have done right. Don’t think I didn’t spent hours in contemplation over it.”

 

Elizabeth would have bristled over those words once but now she was drawn to the hurt behind them. “It wasn’t that you were doing anything wrong,” she said. “I just - you were always so proper. I thought you just wanted a smart match. Everyone said we would be one” She quieted a moment and then added in her own defence “Your proposal was dreadful. You called marriage to me an achievement! It wasn’t until we were at sea and you told me you wished my acceptance was unconditional that I had any notion your proposal had feelings behind it. And by then it seemed too late to be honest without hurting you anyway.” She had meant to tell him that she had meant to keep her word. To marry him - right up until that moment on the battlement when she had been honest in the most cruel way possible. But she did not say it - it was no real defence.

 

“And here we are anyway,” he said.

 

“Not such an achievement.” she said, unable to bear the hurt in his sea green eyes. Their marriage had been such a revelation to her in so many ways. She cannot let him think he was second best. “For you anyway. But I’m so glad you asked me. I’m so glad I didn’t scare you away when I told you to go away and think about it.” Something about him relaxed then and she was glad she was being believed. “James, it would be easy for me to wish I’d never said anything that day. That I would have seen what I see now if we had wed then.”

 

“Do you?” he asked, his face closed off and serious and she wished she had chosen her words better because she did not want to let him down again.

 

“No,” she said. “But only because,” she drifts one hand to her stomach. “I cannot not wish the baby away.” She did not think of the child as James’ for all he insist on he will claim it. Nor did she think of it as Will’s as perhaps she should - it was _hers_. She was half terrified of motherhood but that only makes her more determined.

 

James drew her into his arms then. “I’m glad,” he said. “You always seems so cross when you mention it.” She blushed - it was so easy to be annoyed at the universe and it’s timing even if she wants the child. “I would not wish it different either,” he told her. “I don’t like that you were. . .” he paused here as if searching for an appropriate word before he decided on, “disappointed.” _Disappointed_ was an understatement she thought before he continued. “But I think if we had wed when you had not fully explored your feelings, I am not sure if I if I would been able to compete with your idea of Will Turner.”

 

Elizabeth saw his point. “I think you are giving me too much credit,” she said, then frowned. “Or perhaps not enough? But at least we agree on something.” He laughed softly and she curled into his arms. “I am not cross about the baby,” she told him. “Nervous of it perhaps and I cannot emphasis enough how miserable pregnancy is. But I do want it.” But now she could see another question on his face, his green eyes searching hers. But she knew he would not ask her. So she answered it anyway. “So I do not think we will have a large family. I’m not doing this above two or three times.”

 

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. He stayed silent, she thought he was probably torn between trying to convince her he did not want more children if she hated pregnancy so or wondering if thanking her was inappropriate or if this was some sort of duty or gratitude. “If there is anything I can do - to make it more comfortable for you,” he said.

 

“You already have,” she told him. She’d much rather feel sick physically than sick with worry over doing this alone. “But you are not to say a word if I eat nothing but ginger biscuits for breakfast.”

 

“I promise my utter silence on the subject,” he said. “At breakfast at least.” She laughed - she was not being let off entirely easy then. But speaking of breakfast had him glancing at the clock and he pulled the sheets off her which made her squeal a little. “Come on then,” he said. “Your ginger biscuits will be waiting.”

 

“You get up,” she said pushing at him with one foot and wrestling him for the bed coverings. To her surprise he clearly was not going to be challenged by her on this. He did not hesitate to get up and she watched him stalk across the room, her attention entirely caught by the play of muscles in his back and his firm backside and blushed a little when he turned to her with a clean shirt in hand. He came back to bed to kiss her, his hand cupping her face and he ran a thumb over a cheek which only made her face feel hotter.

 

“Surely after last night the sight of me naked isn’t enough to make you blush,” he said.

 

Elizabeth shrugged - she had been very forward last night. But it had seemed easy to do when she had been so drunk with pleasure that she had wanted to do  _anything_ to make him feel good. She leaned up to kiss him and refused to admit embarrassment. “Well I am not sure what you recall about last night,” she said. “But I didn’t see you from quite that angle.” She was relieved when that made his cheeks pink a little and she leaned up to kiss him as he stretched his weight over her holding himself slightly above her. “It’s a good angle,” she assured him and ran one hand round his back to pat at his backside.

 

He kissed her hard then and pressed her into the pillows and she thought perhaps breakfast had been forgotten. But he was not entirely distracted. “Last night” he said hesitantly, “was that something else Mr Turner requ.”

 

“No,” she interjected hotly cutting off that train of thought. As if she would have done that for Will after the way he went on. “I learnt that in Tortuga,” she said and she did mean to explain properly. But when this appeared to seem even worse to him and she was unable to resist a little bit of wickedness as James froze above her. “I needed the money for passage home,” she added in a small voice. But James looked so horrified that she cannot keep it up. “So I sold a bit of jewellery to a madam in one of the brothels,” she explained hastily. “And I was dressed as a boy so they were quite descriptive in their sales pitches as it were.” She leans up and nips at his neck, “I don’t think I even got to try everything they told me about last night. As that was the first attempt I have made.”

 

“You are a wicked tease, Elizabeth Norrington,” James said - but he only sounded pleased about it and there was a note of pride as he said her name.

 

Elizabeth laughed at him and she was about to tell him she was _not_ a tease. She was quite willing to follow through. But she did not get a word out before her stomach lurched and she felt dizzy. She took a shaky breath and squirmed out of his hold. “You love it. But you are going to breakfast,” she said shakily. “So you can consider yourself thoroughly teased.”

 

James realised what was wrong at once and he drew back, one hand rubbing at her lower back. “Shall I send up something for you?” he said. “Some tea or ginger biscuits.”

 

“No,” she said. “Not right now - I’ll ring if I want something. I’ll let you get dressed.” She would have been quite happy to watch that but she did not want him to watch her if she was to end up retching over a washbasin again so she slipped back to her own room and it’s barely used bed. She rather hoped he might be willing to start the other lessons he had promised her today or it could end up being a very long day. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gives Elizabeth a shooting lesson - it goes rather well.

It was a quiet morning on his own. He waited for her in the parlour after breakfast and managed to resist the urge to tidy Elizabeth’s books into more manageable piles - she would no doubt take that as a scold when she did feel well enough to rise. He did however rescue the few that were in danger of being damaged from the way she had left them. He did examine what she was reading wondering just how many books one person could read at once. He was surprised and touched to find two household management books then all at once he was concerned. Had he put that much pressure on her already?

 

He had taken the opportunity to examine the knitting he had seen. It was the beginnings of a small bonnet and he ran his finger over the precise neat rows, surprised by how even they were. He had seen examples of her sewing before and every stitch there had been imbued with the fact she’d been forced to it and resented it. He jumped when Elizabeth interrupted him. “If you have loosened those needles and made me drop a stitch, I shall be very cross.” He nearly dropped the knitting and felt throughly guilty, turning to see her standing in the parlour doorway, dressed in a pale green silk so fine it barely made any noise which had allowed her to sneak up on him. “After all that took me all week and it isn’t even finished. It’s the most dull activity.”

 

She crossed the room and pressed a kiss to his cheek and he breathed in the scent of her hair. She had dressed it so it was pulled up into a cascade of curls, which she had pulled away from her neck. He was sure that was deliberate because it exposed where he had marked her skin with his attentions last night. A series of small red marks where he had tasted her skin - he flushed at the sight of them and yet he only wanted to do it again. It was a wrench to draw his attention back to their conversation. “Yes - I did not think you were a fan,” he said. “It is why I was curious.”

 

“Well I cannot buy anything for the child yet,” she explained. “Not unless I want you to be fighting a duel every week for all the speculation it will cause. So I thought I would make something. Knitting is not any more interesting than sewing but I am slightly better at it.”

 

“It’s lovely,” he said - he ran his hand over the cream wool and set it back in the knitting basket extremely carefully. “That is an ambitious amount of wool you have there,” he could not help but point out. “For an activity you hate.”

 

“It was a gift,” she said. “The knitting basket. Lady Bellamy sent it with congratulations on the wedding with a very nice note. She said she found knitting very soothing when the Admiral was at sea before his promotion. She said that I might find it a useful hobby And there was an invitation to tea next week.”

 

James was sensible of the fact that any invitation was a good sign even if he did not think that Elizabeth would be thrilled to be attending teas. And one from Admiral Bellamy’s wife was even better. “I am sure many will follow her example,” he said.

 

“I know,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll have a full social calendar before you know it.” She did not look entirely thrilled about it and she looked up at him a little guiltily. “Don’t worry,” she added. “I will try and wait until I am fully accepted back into society before I offend anyone.”

 

“Goodness as long as that,” he said dryly, he kissed her forehead. “You will remember what I said - if anyone is so much as rude to you I will deal with it.”

 

“I will have to fight some of my own battles,” she told him assuredly. “Or it would be pistols at dawn with every frustrated mother whose daughter is nearly on the shelf.” James hesitated - it was Elizabeth’s peers who were likely to be most cruel. And there was a lot less he could do about that. And his hesitance made her go on. “Don’t look so perturbed,” she told him. “You were a catch but you are mine now and they will get over it. It is not as if you could have married all of them - it is only fair men get to play the prize some of the time. There are plenty of married and engaged women who will speak to me.”

 

He could only laugh at her teasing. And he takes the opening when she mentioned pistols - he would rather talk about guns than the fact he was apparently a prize. “Do not make me regret your present,” he said. “You are not to be issuing any challenges.” He nodded to the embossed case on the table - she had not yet noticed it - she knew at once what it was and he was touched by her thrilled gasp and the fact she took the time to kiss him in thanks albeit very briefly before she seized the case and flung it open. The pistols he had chosen are small and functional but pretty too - he hoped she thought so. They are embossed with silver and chased with mother of pearl. There was a matching powder flask, a measure, a bag of shot and a slender ramrod. James had removed the bullet mould - he will see she had plenty of shot without getting ideas about making her own. He had replaced it with a set of measured paper cartridges - just to give her a head start.

 

“They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice warm with pleasure, she picked one up and pointed it and found almost immediately a dozen targets around the room staring along the sight. It was slightly alarming to watch, for all James knew it was not loaded. At least she knew how to aim. He was not sure how much of a lesson she was going to actually need.

 

“Shall we go in the garden then?” he said.

 

“Yes,” she said her voice breathy with delight, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink. James found himself thinking of the night before and swallowed hard reminding himself of his promise to her to teach her. He would not be distracted by his own wants nor make himself a nuisance during the day - not when she had only just been convinced on intimacy.

 

She near trips out the door in her eagerness and he reached for her arm to steady her. All this earned him was a mock threatening with the pistol she still held firmly in one hand as if she was scared to let it go.

 

“Being held at gun point in my own garden,” he said pretending to be scandalised.

 

“Yes yes,” she said brightly but dismissively. “You have a very hard life. Where can I shoot?” He laughed at her impatience and guided her over to a small shaded area. There was a bench and he had meant that for her reading. But just beyond it there was a low hedge which when trimmed flat as it was an ideal place to set some glass bottles - he’d done this while she had been resting. Elizabeth immediately seized on the idea to use the bench to prepare her shot. Fussing at the box she tore open one of the paper cartridges and tipping gun powder he’d measure for her into the barrel before she neatly twisted the shot up in the paper and tamped it down with the ramrod. She was quick and neat and clearly knew what she was doing.

 

“I’m beginning to think your need for lessons was somewhat exaggerated,” he told her amused and she blinked innocently.

 

“But I do need lessons,” she said. “I know how to load a gun - that isn’t hard,” she dismissed. “And I can aim and I threatened Lord Beckett.” But then she suddenly seemed entirely self conscious despite this being a skill not demanded of any young lady. “But I’ve never had much occasional to actually fire a gun. Not even at sea.”

 

“Dear lord,” he said - it was a struggle to maintain a straight face. “How on earth has your education been so neglected.”

 

She rewarded his good humour with a kiss clearly amused herself but she was only briefly distracted. James let her prep her other pistol and then directed her on her stance and grip. She was far far too fidgety at first and while she could sight the target every time - she shifted everytime she fired and she did not hit anything on her first few attempts which only made her huff with impatience. He slipped behind her and steadied her arm. “Calm down,” he said. “The bottle is not firing back - you do not have to rush.”

 

She took a deep breath and leaned back a little, he slid his hands to her hips. “Feet apart,” he reminded her - it would help her with the recoil though the pistol was small enough there was little kick back from it’s charge.

 

“Stop distracting me,” she told him exasperated. Then she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as if her outburst might lead to revoked lessons. She brought the pistol up, cocked it and took another breath and paused before she fired. The glass bottle shattered loudly and Elizabeth made a small squeak of surprise and then flung her arms around him, “look,” she said smugly.

 

“Well done sweetheart,” he said delighted at her pleasure. He kissed her quickly. “Let’s see if we can repeat it.” They practice until she hits a bottle on almost half her shots and she was out of both cartridges and loose powder and shot which left her crestfallen. There was only one bottle left anyway.

 

“Was that a good enough start?” he asked.

 

“No,” she said her tone sharp. “I’m still missing more than half the time.” She kicked at the remnants of a bottle and pouted at him.

 

“Yes,” he said in a serious tone - he tried desperately not to show how adorable he found her. “I can see how you are quite a hopeless case, given your extensive background with firearms.”

 

“Well that is not much defence,” she said.

 

“This was only our first lesson.” he said and held her close. “And if you should have to shoot someone in defence in the near future,” he pointed out carefully, the thought made his heart beat a little faster and he reminded himself it was unlikely she should ever have to. “They will present a rather larger target than a wine bottle.”

 

“Fine,” she sniffed. “If you are going to be all sensible about it. When can I have more powder and shot?”

 

He pulled her close. She had powder residue all over her hands and smudges of it on her lovely dress and even a small amount in her hair. “Soon,” he promised. “But I think you might need some new clothing. I fear I have completely ruined your dress and you looked so lovely.”

 

“Yes,” she told him, suddenly amused. “It was all you - I had naught to do with it.”

 

“Still I should have warned you to change,” he said - it had been thoughtless of him and he did feel badly over it. “I will buy you a new dress. One just as nice to replace this and something plainer to wear when shooting.”

 

“I was going to wear trousers,” she told him shamelessly. “But thought practicing in skirts would be more useful for future. But it is not nearly as difficult as swordplay was.”

 

“No, I imagine not,” he said. He had seen her in trousers before - twice now. It seemed like it would be an even more tempting picture to have her in something that outlined her figure so completely now he knew exactly what she looked like underneath them.

 

“Shall we go in,” he said and she nodded and when she went off to bathe and change James went out to clear up the broken glass. That did not seem fair on the gardener - he was going to have to set up a target system that was less messy.

 

Elizabeth was clearly cheered by the lesson all day - she ate well at lunch and dragged him out for a walk afterwards and her insistence that they head along the battlements that was perhaps only partially because it took them past the powder house. But it could only help that they were seen out in public and Elizabeth hung on his arm and fluttered her eyelashes at him every time she saw someone who seemed to disapprove of their match. James knew he should not encourage her but he was enjoying himself too much to care.

 

After dinner that night, they have barely sat in the parlour for ten minutes, Elizabeth watched him the whole time and said very little, before she suddenly pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m going to retire early,” she told him. He was a little disappointed but pleased she did not feel the need to perform out of duty or to deny herself rest in her condition and bid her good night quietly. He felt extremely foolish when she appeared again half an hour later already dressed for bed .He stared her at her standing in the parlour with her wrap barely concealing a pretty laced edged shift. He was so caught in the image she made, he did not notice she was annoyed until she informed him rather crossly. “That was a hint, James!”

 

“I see,” he said, startled and guiltily relieved and pleased all at once. But he did not move from where he stands - where he had stood instinctively when she slipped back in the room.

 

“Do you not want to?” she asked him, her tone suddenly unsure.

 

He crossed the room to kiss her. “Of course I do,” he said reassuringly. “But you surprised me.” He pulled her into his arms and lifted her off her feet to carry her back to bed.

 

“I thought I was rather obvious,” she said half into his chest. “I mean what was I supposed to say.” He set her on his bed when they get upstairs and let her scold him. “Come to bed James, I want you to have me _right now_?”

 

“That would work,” he said laughter bubbling up despite his best effort. And that was not the only effect it was having on him. Her bold declaration of want had him ready to have her right now though he did not mean to let himself have so little self control. “Or you could ask for a lesson. Or tell me you want to demonstrate something you learned in Tortuga. I thought you were tired after vanquishing that glass army today. ”

 

“Impossible man,” she said though she was smiling now. “If you do not stop laughing at me I will use language I learned in Tortuga and scandalise _all_ the servants.”

 

“My sincere apologies,” he said, as if this was something he wanted to avoid even though the thought of Elizabeth being explicit with her wants had him doubting his own self control. He leans into kiss her then, shifting off her so she could unfasten her wrap. “Perhaps you will allow me to make it up to you.” The lace edged shift he had glimpsed downstairs turned out to be almost entirely made of lace and he spent a long moment taking in that sight before he undressed with less care to his belongings than he had ever shown his in life. He came back to bed in his shirt but Elizabeth pulled it off him the instant he got close and he let her before he pulled her into his arms for more kisses.

 

He slipped one hand to her thigh as his kisses slipped down her throat and she squirmed under him. He tried to show some restraint knowing it had been uncouth of him to mark her as he had but when she breathed his name all he could do was move his mouth lower so at least no-one else would see it.

 

She whimpered when he found a nipple with his mouth, wetting the lace of the shift and she arched her hips and he could not resist - he kissed down her lace covered stomach and he had rubbed the lace over her gently before he lowered his mouth to her, only to have her squirm away. She pushed herself up on her elbows and stared at him. “What are you doing?” she asked her voice breathy.

 

She seemed so genuinely confused that he managed not to claim it was something he had learned in Tortuga - he had obviously never been to the pirate port. “I was going to taste you,” he told her. “I promise it will feel good.”

 

“I don’t want that,” she told him and he pulled back at once. “I mean I am sure it will feel good, and I do want that” she added. “But tonight I want. . . I want you to have me.” It took James a moment to process her meaning and then he pressed a kiss to her thigh.

 

“And how do you feel,” he said carefully, as he pressed kisses gently up her thigh. “About both.”

 

Elizabeth bit her lip and was silent for a long moment. “Really?” she asked in a tone filled with approval and he pushed up the lace material.

 

“Really,” he told her and lowered his mouth to her. Almost immediately she tangled one hand in his hair and he had to place a hand on her hip to hold her in place as he used his tongue where she was most sensative and she writhed under his attention.

 

He had wanted to make it last for her but he had no self control at all when she pleaded with him for more, her needy voice echoed in his ears and he glanced up at her to see her watching him, her face flushed with want and he slipped two of his fingers inside her and thrust as he sucked at the same time. She nearly bucked him off her as she arched and cried his name and nearly wrenched out a handful of his hair.

 

He pulled away slipping back up to kiss her and she clung to him. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, sounding shaken and smoothing his hair ineffectually. “I didn’t know that it could feel even better.” She sounded a little stunned and he is pleased for a moment before she seemed to consider the matter and offered. “Would you prefer I use my mouth? I mean would it be better for you?”

 

James is lost for words for a moment. Then he leaned and kissed her. “No,” he said then added carefully. “Not that it was not wonderful. But I would prefer to have you. _Right now._ If you still want. . .”

 

She laughed. “God yes, please James. I do, I _want_ you.” He kissed her then and pushed himself against her - in her just a bit but she stiffened and he hesitated concerned - she had made it clear she had bad memories and if she did not want but she pulled him close and he slid into all the way into her with a groan yet forced himself to still inside her until he was sure she was okay. And he had to wait just a moment if he was to have any self control because being with Elizabeth, being _in_ Elizabeth felt better than anything he had ever felt. Better than any physical encounter he had before, better than he had ever dreamed it would be when they were engaged the first time. Or after when he had been unable to stop thinking about her even though he had no right to do so and he’d felt shamed by it. But he let it go too long, in her and trembling slightly and clinging to her. “James,” she said a little unsure. “Am I - am I doing something wrong?”

 

“No,” he said at once guilt stricken. “No of course not Elizabeth. You are perfect.” He shifted his hips against hers and closed his eyes against the sensation. “Beyond perfect,” he said and shifted his hips again only for her to moan his name and when she held tightly to him, he shifted one hands to her hip again. “You can move Elizabeth - if you want to move.”

 

“Yes,” she said. “Oh yes - I want that.” He guided her just for a moment but she had it as soon as she was shown and then greedily he wanted to hear her overwhelmed again and he slid his hand between them to touch her and only just managed to summon enough control to wait until she tightened around him - crying his name again before he spilt himself inside her. and then he was gone overwhelmed by her again and he pressed his face into her neck. “I love you,” he told her. He had not meant to say it - he had never said it though it had always been the case. He barely let himself think it. He had not wanted to make things awkward but suddenly it was very important that he tell her.

 

She held tightly to him. “I know,” she said quietly. “ James, you make me so happy. I think. . .” He kissed her suddenly. He does not want her to have to explain herself. Or try to force feelings.

 

“If you are happy- that’s enough,” he said. He wanted to make her happy and she did not owe him anything.

 

“Of course it is not,” she said indignantly. “James I want to make you happy too.” She sounded so earnest, so honest and for now - it was enough.

 

“Well then,” he said as she curled into his arms to sleep. “Job well done Mrs. Norrington.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes
> 
> Paper cartridges were just little envelopes with pre measured gun powder and could include a bullet or shot. 
> 
> They did historically make smaller pistols (often with fancy decoration) especially for ladies to be able to hide them - they were commonly called muff pistols because they were often hidden in hand warmers which were called muffs. But as there was very little need for hand warmers in the Caribbean - I'm not using that name :)
> 
> The powder house would be a secure building in 18th century towns to keep gunpowder stores given the fire potential. James does have more secured in the house but he will keep that for actual emergencies and not Elizabeth's target practice.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and James continue to enjoy married life until he is needed at sea.

Elizabeth woke the next day to an empty bed which was not a pleasant start to her morning. She had gone to sleep content and sure in her happiness and pleased that she had gone some way to making James happy too. He had said he loved her and she had been so happy. It made sense of course - why else he would he take her and another man’s child if he did not. And she had found that there was so much to him she didn’t know - he was not who she had dismissed him for previously. And she could love him - she thought if she dared let herself after things had gone so badly for her in matters of the heart before. But waking to the the bed cold beside her threw that thought into immediate doubt. She could tell from the light it was too early for him to have gone in search of breakfast and even so he was bound to have woken her to see if this was a morning she had an appetite. She slipped out of bed and padded through to her room to dress. So she could go and find him. 

Then she felt guilty that he had had to flee his own bed to get peace from her and went back to bed instead of pursuing him. Why should he not be allowed a bit of peace if he wanted it. She lay there picking at the crystallised ginger not because she felt ill but because it made her feel better to laze about in bed with sweets. She had a vague notion she would have breakfast in bed and leave ginger biscuit crumbs in his side of the bed and it would serve him right. Then she scolded herself for being spiteful. She did not know what she had managed to do wrong while asleep but she would not improve matters with that. But then the door handle turned and James slipped back in, - he was not yet dressed, his night shirt covered by a morning coat and he pulled the door closed ever so carefully trying to be quiet. He was surprised to see her awake and he came over to the bed at once, folding the morning coat at the end of the bed. “Is something amiss?” he asked concerned.

“Yes,” she said and abandoned her resolutions to let him have some space almost immediately. “This bed is too big for me all on my own,” she tugged him down for a kiss. “I know you are an early riser James but this is ridiculous - where have you been?”

“There was a runner from the fort,” he said. “Some urgent dispatches came in over night.” He settled into the bed beside her. “I’ve replied to them now.” Elizabeth bit her lip to keep quiet. It was a relief he had not fled the bed to get away from her but she did not like the sound of urgent dispatches at all but she knew she was being ridiculous.

“And your leave?” she said carefully - she did not want to be too demanding or seem unrealistic about his career but could not help but ask. “Are you still on leave?”

He pulled her close and kissed her. “I am.” He seemed oddly more pleased rather than concerned by her foolishness and she curled close to him and he pulled her into his lap. She fussed with his shirt and slid one hand into his hair as she tucked herself into his arms. “I have a fortnight,” he said. “Then the _Dauntless_ is required at sea - there are rumours french privateers are harassing the shipping from the Bahamas” 

“You’ll be gone some time then,” she said. The _Dauntless_ was a fine ship - the power in these waters but it was a first rate and _slow. F_ or a quicker mission James would have took the _Reliant_ \- the ship that had arrived to replace the Interceptor while Elizabeth had been at sea.

“Yes,” he said. “Though you mustn’t worry - no French privateer will have anything that can rival the _Dauntless_.”

“I know,” she said. “And even if they did it would hardly be enough to overcome the very great disadvantage of being sailed by the French.”

 

Her jest makes him smile - which was what she wanted and she stole another kiss while he fussed with the lace of her shift and she squirmed in his lap which made him hold her tighter and she could feel the effect she was having.

“Do you like this?” she said fussing slightly with the lace.

“It’s lovely,” he said. “And you look beautiful in it.” He sounds so sincere she almost felt badly that she was trying to tease.

“I know the lace is pretty,’ she said. “But it itches something fierce.” He looks at her - and she knows he takes her meaning though he did not act on it. Not right away.

“I would not object,” he said carefully, closing his eyes for just a moment and she wondered what he was thinking, “if you wished to remove it.”

Elizabeth knew this was as close to a request as she was likely to get from him. She could not help but tease for a moment and pretended to consider this and then yanked the shift up to pull it up over her head and sit naked in James’ lap sure this would direct his attention in the right direction. And it did - sort of. She rather thought it would move things along quite quickly but it had the opposite affect as James was too busy looking at her to shift her in the bed in a position he could have her. And then he pulled her close to kiss her and his hands very slowly began to roam. At first he did nothing more than slide his hands slowly up her bare back which makes her shiver.

“James, I want . . .” she murmured clinging tightly to him.

 “I know,” he said. “Elizabeth _please,_ I want to touch you everywhere.” She bit her lip and nodded.

 “I want that too,” she told him. And she leaned in to kiss his neck trying to find the places he shown her were sensitive. It was her turn to mark him and when he groaned her name and held tightly to her hips and let one hand slip to her thigh sliding up to tease her where she was most sensitive. She whimpered and when his fingers slipped inside her, she pressed her face into his neck and then nipped him gently. “Please,” she said, “James I _need,”_ and he stops teasing then his fingers circling just where she needed them and he pressed a little firmer and she stared into his green eyes as the pleasure washes over her. She meant to slip out of his lap then - onto the bed so he could have her. She may have had her pleasure but it had only made her want him more. But when she goes to move his hands are on her hips again holding her in place. “Do you not want to?” she said confused. She was only asking to make sense of his motivation. She was sitting in his lap. She could feel the solid heat of him pressed against her backside. She _knew_ he did want her. 

“I do,” he said, his voice filled with want “I want you so much. Elizabeth.” He leaned into to kiss her shoulder. “But that does not mean you need to move. Not far anyway.” He shifted her a little pulling her round so she faced him and she took his meaning and blushed before she moved one leg so she straddled him.

 

“I am not sure you have thought this through,” she told him. “You know I am not the best horsewoman.”

He laughed and arched his hips and she gasped as he rubbed his cock against her. “I have heard for years that the fault with your riding skills lies with the horses.” He kissed her neck and used one hand to tease her nipples. “I think I can promise you a well behaved steed for this ride.”

“James,” she scolded her cheeks flaming. “I don’t think you can claim to be well behaved at all.” But then he pulls her down onto her and she moaned needfully. His hands fall to her hips and show her a rhythm and she accepted this for a brief moment. But then she batted his hands away and found her own rhythm. “See,” she said. “I believe the rider sets the pace.” It was an intriguing sensation. To have this much control. To see James arch when she moved faster or plead her name when she slowed down and prolonged the sensation. But eventually she must have teased too much because he exhaled her name pulled her down onto him and rolled them so he was on top and then he was thrusting hard into her and she cried out his name as she was overtaken again before he stilled again her moaning her name against her neck. He rolls off her at once, his breath a pant and she laughed happy and sweaty. “Remind me not to ride any horse you pick out if that is your idea of good behaviour,” she said merrily, as she leant into kiss him. She had only meant to tease - she had found it all wonderful but instead he looks rather stricken. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “It was so inappropriate for me to manhandle you like that. And to be so rough. I did not think.” His gaze dropped to her stomach and she took his meaning.

“Don’t,” she said. “You were not rough, James. It was lovely. I’m not hurt.” He had still never been as rough with her as Will had and she would not let him berate himself. “I am sure if you were being inappropriate it would not feel good.” She bit her lip. “And that certainly felt good.” For a long moment she did not think he would believe her but then she saw him relax. And he pulled her close - she kissed his cheek. “Come on,” she said. “You seem to have given me an appetite this morning.”

 

It relaxed him she knew to see her have an appetite or take some rest. She thought that once this level of attention and fuss might have driven her quite mad. But part of her - the part that was quite wounded by Will’s abandonment perhaps cannot bring herself to resent when James fussed over her like a mother hen. She thought he might end up giving her father a run for his money in the protective stakes when the baby was here. She hoped so. He seemed sincere when he said he would claim the child for his own but she knew it may be different when the child was here. She decided not to borrow trouble - by the time he came back from this tour she should be showing. Perhaps the child will seem more real then - for both of them.

She did at least get to give him the note she had written to his family while he was away. She knew he always wrote to his mother before a long tour, he had told her that when she had complained about a trip her father had taken to Nassau when she was fifteen and suggested there was enough trade between the islands that she could write to him. She had stamped her foot and said she did not want to write to her father - she had wanted to go with him. She had not sealed the note and she handed it over before she went to see the cook about the possibility of more ginger biscuits, assuring him he was welcome to read it. When she came back from the kitchen he is still engrossed in it.

 “Elizabeth I cannot send this,” he said sounding utterly baffled.

 “Oh,” she said. She had spent ever so long on the letter. “Why ever not.” What had she done wrong now?

 “It is meant to be a letter of introduction about you,” he said. “This is a four page highly edited tale of how I rescued you from pirates.”Well of course it was edited, Elizabeth thought exasperated. She could hardly tell her in laws about undead pirates and being marooned with Jack Sparrow.

 “There is lots about me in there,” she said. “I’ve mentioned my father and my family back in England. And what I wore to your promotion ceremony. And my interest in your career and our long acquaintance - just like you said.”

 “Yes,” he said. “But I don’t recall saying you should bookend those things around some attempt to paint me as some sort of dashing hero.” He paused. “It was my duty to come after you Elizabeth - the fact you were taken from a Port that I was set to guard was my responsibility. I wanted to come after you - of course I did but I would have d itone anyway - I do not deserve this kind of credit for it. It was not a romantic gesture.”

 “Hush,” she said. “Listen to yourself. How is rescuing the woman you love from pirates not a romantic gesture.” She looked away a moment. Such a thought had gotten her into trouble before. “Besides it is not as if you got much credit at the time - I think your mother will love to hear about you being dashing.”

 He is quiet then and then offers her a shy smile. “You are not wrong there. I hope you realise you have ensured my next letter is one long scold. She will be outraged I didn’t tell her so she could brag to all her friends.”

 “Indeed,” Elizabeth said. “Very thoughtless of you James. Give me back that note - I am going to add a post script promising her I shall tell her of all your fine deeds in future.” James looked horrified and held the letter out of reach.

“I will send it as is,” he said reluctantly and Elizabeth leaned up to kiss him. He was far too modest but why shouldn’t his mother brag of him.

 

That night there was another runner from the fort - Elizabeth woke as well and listened at the study door for all James’ tried to be circumspect in leaving the bed. Wreckage of a British merchant ship had washed up on shore and she knew at once his leave would be cancelled. It took three days to get the _Dauntless_ ready to sail and Elizabeth barely sees James because of the preparations. He was forever at the fort or the docks and while she does walk down there some days to check on him, she knew she was a distraction and only permitted in because the officers will not be rude to their commander’s wife. 

He reassured her repeatedly that all will be well. She thought this was more for his benefit than hers. He was worried about leaving her so she allowed him to fuss. The day before the tide would be right to sail James comes across her in the garden polishing her pistols. He has refilled the powder and shot and provided more cartridges for her defence while he was away. He had given enough so she could practice but made her promise to keep enough back she could keep them loaded the entire time he was away and she had sincerely promised and told him he did not need to worry.

“Are you off then?” she said looking up. He pretends confusion. “I know you like to spend the night before you sail aboard ship,”she said. “Is it for luck?” James is the least superstitious sailor she knows but he had done that since he was made Captain so it may be an exception.

“I would not leave you a day early for luck,” he said earnestly. “It is to spot any issues while there is still something to be done about them.” So he was going then. “It is important or I would not.” 

“I know,” she said. But then she has a bright idea. “But there is no reason you could not have company aboard the _Dauntless_ \- I would be happy to sleep in your cabin.” This made him instantly wary and she supposed she deserves that. “It is not a trick James. I am not planning to stow away. I would just like one last night with you.”

 “Alright then,” he said with a smile that made her heart light. “But you must tell me if it upsets your stomach and I will bring you home.”

“I got seasick out  at sea,” she said outraged - which had not even been real sea sickness. “I will be fine on a moored ship.” More than fine, she decided as she went off to pack something she could wear the next day that would not need a maid to get into it. At least she will be with him nearly until he sailed - and can make sure he had her in his thoughts at sea.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James returns from sea to a few surprises.

James had never in his life in his life been as glad to see Port Royal as he was on his return from this tour.He had not considered at all when Elizabeth had came aboard for a single night that he would have to spend two months at sea, trying to sleep in a bed that smelled of her perfume. Where he had only to close his eyes to see remember how she had looked naked against his white sheets, her skin luminous in the lamplight, her eyes dark with passion. The way she had arched under him when he had let his mouth drift over her naked skin. The way she had sighed his name as he slipped inside her and clenched around him just before he spent. And every morning since he had woken to the memory of how she had woken him that morning - slipping down the bed to take him in her mouth.

If that were not enough she had had left a scarf and bit of ribbon from her dress. On purpose because she had tied them around a support so he thought of her every time he stepped in his cabin. And left little notes tucked in the pages of half his books - he wondered if she had slept at all that night or if she had merely waited until he slept and then stamped her presence on every aspect of his cabin. The worst of it had been that she had left him his wedding present. He had not even expected her to get him anything and he was touched she had thought of it. The new watch was a finely made one and it had been an even nicer surprise to find a miniature of Elizabeth in the case - it was an older portrait, when she was younger he’d seen it before. But the miniature frame spun and he had been shocked to find the reverse was a newer one of Elizabeth _en déshabillé,_ her lips curved in a private smile, her form covered only be a lacy shift that was shrugged off one bare shoulder. It was not obscene but he still felt a flare of jealously that she had been painted so. Except there was a note tucked behind it in her slanted yet messy hand. _“Don’t worry! I painted this myself. Love E.”_ Which of course only touched him even more and yet he dare not so much as check the time on the watch when he was not alone in case he had left it on the wrong miniature.

And of course even if her presence had not taken over the Captain’s cabin entirely - at every officer’s dinner he held, he was subject to the normal teasing and advice that any newly married officer was. It was not an appropriate use of his authority to shoot that down when every other officer would put up with it and he had already been throughly rebuked that he had not held a bachelor’s celebration prior to his wedding. James abhorred the notion. He was no saint and had had his share of illicit experiences. But he thought it the height of insult to ones future wife that one should have celebrate securing a partner in life which should render such behaviour unnecessary by indulging in an excess of it. So the short time before their marriage had seemed an ideal excuse to not have to deal with such nonsense.

 

But spotting Port Royal was not enough - the wind was against them and the _Dauntless_ was labouring a little from a shot it took when the French privateers had finally stood and fought. What should have been an hour’s sail in good wind takes them the best part of a day tacking into the wind and it was sunset before they dock and dark by the time James had dismissed the men and secured the ship.

He considered staying in his cabin that night - he had wanted to be home early so he could at least bathe and make himself presentable before he saw Elizabeth rather than turning up unshaven and smelling of salt water. And he would hate to wake her. But he was unable to resist the temptation. He wanted to see her. Two months was longer than they had together since their marriage and there are moments when it doesn’t yet seem real to him. The house was dark when he gets home and he was glad that she had retired. The Dauntless would have been just as visible from land as Port Royal was to it and she might have stayed up in hopes of him getting home.

He was desperately curious to see her, to know how she was. To see that all was well with her and the child. He had gotten used to having her close. To enjoying her company. He told himself if she was sleeping he would not wake her. Just look in on her and sleep in his dressing room, if she was still commandeering his bed. He rather hoped she was. He liked the idea she would have wanted to close to him while he was away.

 

She was in his bed, when he went up but she was not asleep. James stood stock still in the doorway, feeling like his heart might stop, Elizabeth’s head was thrown back, her hair spilled over the pillow,and the sheet was barely covering her as she worked one hand between her thighs. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip as if to hold back the little noises he knew she made when she was _close_. He did not think he had ever seen anything more arousing even as guilt flooded through him. He had not meant to invade her privacy in this fashion and he stepped back towards the door, wincing as his sword clunked off the door frame. Elizabeth’s eyes flew open in shock and yanked her hand away from her self before she flushed a deep pink the blush going down to the tops of her breasts, which were exposed by her loose shift.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted feeling like the worst sort of peeping tom. “I should have knocked – I didn’t mean to . . .”

She took a deep breath and managed a small smile her face still pink. “Yes. How terrible of you. You’d think this was your own room, in your own house.” She gathered up the blankets around her and looked away. “I’m so glad you are home James. I waited by the docks all day but they said the head wind was too strong. That you wouldn’t be docking until tomorrow.” She looked so ashamed he felt dreadful. “I have been thinking about welcoming you home all day or I would never have . . .” she trailed off without words for it. And James crossed the room to kiss her, hating the thought of her upset and was beyond relieved she leans into him and tilts her head up so he could deepen the kiss.

“Well they obviously did not consider how motivating the thought of you was.” He said into her hair. Her breath hitches and he looks into her eyes - she was still so embarrassed that he cannot help but continue.“And if you think I have spent my nights in that damn bed, smelling your perfume and picturing you, without taking matters into my own hands,you are mistaken.” James would have said once that nothing short of torture would make him admit such to her. But he cannot bear to see her so crestfallen.

 

She relaxes a little at that and peers up at him. “Do you really?” she asks a little breathless. She liked the idea, he realised and he kissed her again - there were limits to what he wanted to talk about. Though its a mistake to take his eyes off her entirely as he gasped when he realised she had undone his breaches in rather rapid fashion and then she was stroking him firmly.

“Like this?” she asked and smiled with delight when he nodded wordless not trusting his voice - when he reached for her to attempt to return the favour. But Elizabeth parted her legs and pleaded while guiding him against her and surely there was no point in his life when James ever would have had the will power to say no to that - not from her. He pushed himself into her slowly and carefully - she was soaking wet - and whimpered his name and bucked her hips under him and he groaned. “More,” she said clutching him close to her - she was in nothing but her shift and he realisedhe was fully dressed with only his breaches undone enough to take her and he pulled back shamed that he would treat her so. “Don’t you dare,” she exclaimed. “James I cannot wait!” Her indignant tone made him smile and flooded him with relief as he pushed her back into the pillows with a kiss.

“At your service madam,” he said against her mouth and he slid his hand down to touch her while he wrestled with his own self control to hang on until she was satiated. There was a measure of relief that this does not take long - that she arches and shouts his name so easily and he could bury himself inside her and moan her name into her skin. He moves off her at once though part of him could easily have held on for sometime. He was not so lost to passion he had not noticed there was a difference in her and he would not be any more selfish than he had been already and he reached for her stomach where he had felt a slight swell when pressed against her. Elizabeth watches him - her gaze steady and lifts the shift so he could see the slight curve of her belly. “Something for you to look at at last,” she teased. “But you are overdressed sir - if you are going to sit and stare don’t I get something to look at?” She kissed his cheek. “I’ve had to make do with my imagination for months.”

He dared to give her a stern look sure now it would not actually be taken as a scold. “I can see how that would be struggle for you,” he said.

Elizabeth bit her lip and made a very brief attempt to look innocent - which was doomed to failure attired as she was, her night shift lose over her breasts and yanked up to her waist. Her hair was tousled and her cheeks pink from their activity. “I do not know what you mean,” she said and then she yanked at the his jacket and then his breaches and finally his shirt and left him entirely bare.

“I feel there was a double standard here,” he said not really minding one bit - it still baffled him that not only was Elizabeth willingly his wife - she found something she wanted to see when he was stripped bare.

But Elizabeth was not truly listening to him - she was staring at his side. “That is new,” she accused running a finger over a pink scar. “You were hurt - why did you not say?”

“I am not hurt,” he told her firmly. “It was a minor scrape. And even if it did hurt - it would take more than a month old pin prink like that to put me off showing you how much I missed you.”

This earns him another kiss and she pulls him into her arms and back down into the pillows. He slips one hand over her belly - he wants to ask how things have been. How she feels? If she had been accepted in society. But she was sleepy and sweet in his arms and he had been at the wheel since they spotted land and it was far too easy to pull her close and let sleep wash over him.

 

The next morning, he was woken by her squirming on top of him - it was barely past dawn and he knows very well if he should try to wake her at such an hour he would not get a pleasant reception. But he does not mind. He does not mind early mornings and even if he did - he would certainly make an exception in her case. He sat up and pulled her close and mindful of what she had told him the last time they had been like this let her set the pace. He expected she would torment him at least a little but she had no interest at all in going slow - urging herself up and down his cock while she whimpered in his ear. He tried to persuade her to take off her night shift but she would not have it suddenly shy. “After,” she told him impatiently and nipped at his neck as if to warn him off. And he would have questioned just what she meant by that but she quickened her pace and James had neither the breath nor the will for questions as he arched under her until she cried his name and he finally could let go. She slipped off him with a very satisfied sigh that was hardly difficult for him to hear and he meant to pull her into his arms when she belatedly complied with his request pulling the shift over her head. She made herself comfortable on the pillows again but he could see she was nervous. Though he did not see why and his confusion must show. “I didn’t want you to be put off,” she said. And he blinked looking over the slight curve of her belly, it was not the only place she had changed he noted, her hips seemed curvier, her breasts were largertoo and her nipples had darkened which only made him want to taste her there and he licked his lips and it belatedly dawned on him that silently staring was hardly going to reassure her.

“Nothing about you could ever put me off,” he told her. “Certainly not the sight of you like this. My god Elizabeth you look,” he could not think of the words at first and then he settled on. “Ripe - like a fruit that is even more ready for plucking. You are perfect.” And then he rolls over to show her just exactly how much he meant this all over again.

 

After breakfast though he must go into the Fort - the Dauntless’ repairs are to be arranged and he had a pile of paperwork to do- the late start means that he cannot promise an early return and Elizabeth assures him she does not mind. She had an invite to tea - which pleases him and she had some invites for them both that she had held off on accepting while awaiting his return. But she does entreat him to visit the powder house while he was out because apart from enough the powder she left back - as promised - she was almost out of powder and shot. He promises most sincerely to remember and that as soon everything was sorted to find time for them to practice together. He had his doubts if this was a good ideaalmost as soon as he said it - not that he does not want her to shoot, but practicing together might not be wise, he was a crack shot and Elizabeth was rather intensely competitive. She may not like it if he outdoes her. But he would get her powder and shot regardless.

He was surprised when at the Fort he was called on by Lady Bellamy. The Admiral’s wife was well known to all the officers - with her own grown sons posted elsewhere, - Gibraltar and the Channel - he thinks, she fills her time playing match maker for the single navy men and debutantes of Port Royal. James had been scolded by her for his unmarried state by her nearly as much as his own mother and at a much closer distance. “Commodore Norrington,” she said as he bowed to her. “How good to have you home. I am very cross with you, you know. Such a small wedding. You must have known how many of us would have wished you happy.”

James knew how many wouldn’t have given Elizabeth’s reputation. “Indeed,” he said. ‘Yet in the circumstances it seemed best to exclude those who would not wish us happy even if it meant those who would were similarly treat.” Lady Bellamy was not stupid - Elizabeth would have been snubbed by half of Port Royal if they had sent out invites.

“La - frightened she’d run away again were you,” said Lady Bellamy secure in the knowledge she could not say what she liked and no-one - at least no-one subordinate to her husband - could take offence. James drew back and stared coldly at the reminder but then was startled when she added“I think you are quite safe, she seemed to have learned her lesson and is quite enamoured of you.”

James was surprised how much of a relief it was to hear this from someone else. To know he was not just seeing what he wanted to believe was true. To know that Elizabeth had seemed fond of him when doing the socialising she was forced to for the sake of her reputation.“I would have never have doubted her feelings,” he said stiffly and falsely beside only to get a knowing look from Lady Bellamy.

“Of course not dear,” she said “But it is so nice to see her settled - I am sure her father must be over the moon - he worried so you know. She’d doing very well you know now she is restored by your match - she must be very grateful.”

James tensed not sure where she was going with this and hating with every fibre of his being the notion that Elizabeth should be grateful. “And that must be gratifying of course.” James flushed. “Oh I do not mean to scold,” Lady Bellamy waved her fan clearly amused. “But I have no daughters so I take a motherly interest in so many of the girls and poor Elizabeth has no mother of her own to advise her. You must realise that young girls are far too delicate to have too many demands placed on them. And too demure to say so when newly married. It is up to you to be considerate.”

James could not believe he was hearing this. He could not believe that Elizabeth would talk to Lady Bellamy about their marital life and even less could he believe she would complain of him. She had seemed so much to like being close to him and had done nothing but encourage him. Yet even Lady Bellamy would surely not bring up something so inappropriate without encouragement from someone. He took a deep breath. “Your consideration is as always most astute. You can be assured I will give Elizabeth all due care.” He stepped to the door and held it open. “Thank you for your time, I am sure Elizabeth is looking forward to your next invite.” It was shockingly close to being rude but she smiled waved her fan and went. James sat down at his desk stunned and managed to write not one word of his report.

 

When he eventually got home, Elizabeth was lounging in the parlour with a book, her hair was in a neat braid and she wore a pretty blue gown and brightened at the sight of him. James felt ill at the idea it was all a pretence. He stood in the doorway and did not take a step closer to her but she only came to him. “James? Is something amiss?”

“Nothing,” he said stiffly. He had never been good at lying to her. “Difficult day.”

She smiled impishly and leaned up to kiss him. “Did you miss me?”

He closed his eyes - of course he had. When he opened him, she was watching with wide eyed concern. “Of course I did darling,” he said trying not to sound forced.

“James what is wrong?” she reached up to touch his face.

“Lady Bellamy called on me today,” he said eventually trying to work out how to phrase the rest of what he had to say except Elizabeth at once slumped a little and made a rather familiar face - one he had not seen in some time but had been familiar enough when he had known her as a child. That was guilt and she looked like a naughty child as she blinked up at him and bit her lip.

“Oh lord, James. I am so sorry. What did the old busy body have to say.” Elizabeth was even blushing a little and James suddenly feels a little more positive. Surely she had not complained about something so private to someone she thought that of.

“She wished to give me some advice,” he said stiffly. “On the treatment of my delicate and demure young wife.”

Elizabeth snorted ungracefully and thenwith a severe effort bit back the laugh. “I am so sorry. I should have told you - I should have warned you.” She took in a deep breath and managed to calm somewhat. Though her eyes shine bright with mischief.“I went to tea with her - just after you left. And I had - well it was nearly a faint. And she made so much fuss - and I know that she is such a gossip monger that I couldn’t give her any reason to suspect the real reason. So I claimed exhaustion because I was so shocked by. . by how much you had wanted me.” James closes his eyes in relief then flushes with embarrassment which only gets worse when Elizabeth continues. “I may have gone on a bit. About how overwhelming it all was. And if it would be easier to cope with how good it felt when I got more used to it.” She looks at his flushed cheeks. “I thought I was a very convincing shocked newly deflowered wife,” she said defensively. “It will help a lot if Lady Bellamy believes the baby is yours.”

“Indeed,” James said. “And no doubt she will believe it when she thinks you have practically described the conception.” It seemed that Elizabeth could never find a normal solution to anything. Convincing the town biggest gossip that she had been a virgin when she married by describing how good she found intimacy.At least no-one could predict that was a ploy.

“I should have told you,” she said soundly more sincere.

“Yes,” he said. “I would appreciate knowing if you have bragged of my prowess to any more of the town gossips.”

“Well,” she said her forehead wrinkling in concentration to his consternation. “Do you just want me to tell you or shall I write you a list?” But she cannot keep that up and when she laughs he knows he has been had.

“You are a wicked woman,” he said. “And I will never be able to look Lady Bellamy in the eye again.”

“That is no loss,” she said. “Besides it is worse for me - she told me all about the Admiral and that is much much worse.” James can only sincerely hope he is being teased. Again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Social life causes a few complications for the newlyweds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short update as the last chapter ran a little long. Thank you again for all the comments :)

Now that James was home, Elizabeth’s father had called and told her several times they must socialise. Elizabeth’s pregnancy would not be hidden by corsets and skirts forever and they must be an established couple by the time they had _happy news_ to share.

Elizabeth knew he was right but she did not have to like it. She had been very good while James was at sea and had attended every invite to tea she received and returned every call as well. And every note - apart from the one complaining about the noise of her target practice. That she had ignored. It had at least been a bit of a distraction from how much she was missing James - except from at night when nothing could distract her and she slept poorly and woke fidgety until she had decided to take matters into her own hands.

Of course she had managed to tease James a little when the very first ball invite they do accept was held by Lady Bellamy. She had informed him over breakfast that she had accepted the invitation. “You will have to be on your very best behaviour,” she had warned unable to hide her smile. “She will be watching you.” 

“No doubt,” James said. “But I know who it is who truly needs a weather eye kept on.”

 

Now they were here though and the conventions of society had separated them. Elizabeth skirted the edges of the ballroom attempting to look wan. She did not intend to dance with anyone but James tonight and she was not at all fussy about how she achieved this. If she did not stay still no-one can ask her for a dance. And looking pathetic was part of a separate plan altogether. James had already stood up with her for two sets and promised her the supper dance. Three sets was one more than was proper, so she knew he would not ask again, even newly weds only got so much allowance. But she was sure she could get at least one more dance with him. While enacting the slightest bit of revenge on Lady Bellamy for her interference. She spied her target and sank into a chair by Lady Bellamy with an audible sigh. This had the desired effect, and the hostess came to her side at once.

“Goodness, Mrs. Norrington, surely the ball has not tired you out already. You have barely stood up this evening.” The older woman lowered her voice conspiratorially, “surely your husband is not tiring you out still – I know they can be demanding after a time at sea.” Elizabeth managed not to make a face at the idea of the Admiral being demanding, the man was older than her father and near constantly drunk when not on duty and managed entirely by his wife at every social occasion.

Instead she shook her head sadly. “No,” she said quietly looking crestfallen. “No I fear I have offended him somehow. He is not interested in me at all though I do my best to be obliging.” This was a rather drastic understatement – it was James who had been obliging her as she had done nothing but demand his attention since he returned. She could not get enough of him and while she assumed it was because she had missed him – she had missed him – the overwhelming want did not seem to be settling at all despite regular satisfaction. Lady Bellamy patted her hand.

“Poor dear” she said. “He is only being considerate of your health. As he should be. He should not impose his wants on you.”

“Oh but he does not impose,” Elizabeth said unable to help herself, determined to shock Lady Bellamy if only to teach her a lesson for interfering. “It is not a imposition at all.” She bit her lip which she hoped added to the effect and stopped herself from smiling at Lady Bellamy’s scandal. “Is that why he does not want me, do you think? Does he think me a complete wanton?” James probably did think that – how could he not, given her behaviour. But he did not seem to mind. She made a sad little sound. “I cannot even get him to dance with me and of course no-one else will ask.”

 “What!” Lady Bellamy said outraged. As far as she was concerned now that she had accepted Elizabeth into society – everyone else was supposed to follow suit.

 “Oh please don’t say anything.” Elizabeth said suddenly rethinking this plan. The last thing she wanted was Lady Bellamy scaring up dance partners for her - only a particular one. “My father said I must be patient and wait for acceptance and I am trying.” She let her lower lip tremble. “I am trying so hard to be good. But I did not think James would be so strict about dancing when he is my only partner.”

Lady Bellamy patted Elizabeth’s hand and shushed her soothingly. “You poor dear,” she said. “I think under circumstances there is no need to be so formal. You wait here and I will have a word.” She flagged down a maid and instructed her to fetch Elizabeth a cup of punch and flounced off in her layers of ruffles - presumably to waylay James.

 

Elizabeth drank her punch and waited for her husband to appear, smoothing the skirts of her cream gown. When James did find her - he appeared to have escaped Lady Bellamy but there was definite blush to his cheeks. He had been persuaded out of uniform for once and looked very fine in his deep brown coat that matched the embroidery of his gown. He not even worn the wig and while he always looked fine as an officer Elizabeth admired him even more tonight. He looked even more hers like this because he would have never changed his manner of dress if not for her. “Oh there you are dear,” she said full of good cheer. “Are you enjoying the party.”

He attempted to look stern but failed entirely his mouth softening into a smile as he sat beside her. “Clearly not as much as you are, you menace,” he said. “What have you been saying to Lady Bellamy this time. She has you as quite the tragic figure.”

“I am,” Elizabeth assured. “This is the first ever ball I have attended as a married lady and my husband is too polite to dance with me as much as wish.”

“I see,” he said seriously. “Yes you are quite a tragic figure it seems. Lady Bellamy spoke to me at length that being _considerate_ does not constitute neglecting my wife.” Elizabeth laughed and James took advantage of the corner she was sat in to lean in and kiss her. In public. “Perhaps you might care to take a turn around the gardens with me?” he said. “Before the next set. Or before you find something else to complain of to Lady Bellamy.” 

Elizabeth took his arm. “Some fresh air would be nice,” she said. “After all who knows what I might say to Lady Bellamy next.” James looks exasperated but not really angry so Elizabeth does not feel badly over it. And it is a nice night - much cooler than the crush of the ball room. James picked a flower from one of Lady Bellamy’s prize rose bushes and carefully picked off every thorn before he tucked it in her hair. Then he was oddly silent as they walked. Elizabeth wondered if she had gone to far - she had always thought she might be too improper for James and couldn’t she have behaved a little for him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I only -

“Wanted your own way?” he said and she stopped in her tracks and flushed.

“I’m sorry,” she started - she did not think she had gone too far but then she rarely did until it was too late.

“Elizabeth,” he said. “If you think I would not give you your own way in every way I could - you are mistaken but Lady Bellamy is not the only matron you have to win over. That _we_ have to win over.”

 She looks down, ashamed all over again and he pulled her into his arms. “I do not mean to scold sweetheart.”

“No,” she said. “You are right. I will be better. I promise.” She had his reputation to think of now and the child she would bear that she would have to convince everyone is legitimate and she cannot always have her own way. Or ever it seemed and it had only been a bit of fun and she shook her head, feeling hard done by will not help. “I will be a better wife. I promise.” She ventured. “You don’t have to dance with me again.”

 

But James only looked stricken. “That is not what I meant,” he said - he guided her to a stone bench and sat her down and took a knee in front of her. “Elizabeth - you are the perfect wife.” She snatches her hands away feeling mocked. The perfect wife indeed. She could not be further from being such a thing. Ruined and pregnant and unable to behave for the length of one party.

“You do not have to say such things,” she said. “I know it isn’t true.”

“It is true,” James said sharply. “I would not change a single thing about you Elizabeth - not ever. Not even if it means yet another hundred lectures from Lady Bellamy. If you were not with child . . .” she winced as if struck and he reached for her hands. “I do not mean I wish you were not,” he said hotly. “If you were not with child I would dance every set with you and kiss you in the ball room and scandalise the whole town. I promise.” He kissed her hands. “But we only get one scandal to weather sweetheart and you have rather reserved it for November. Your tactic with Lady Bellamy will help. If she is on your side. But we still have to behave.”

 Elizabeth nods, she hates all of this. She knew he was right. And this is what she had signed up for by staying. By marrying him. She did not trust her voice so then threw her arms around him and held tight for a long moment. She could accept this - she had done. She would not go back on her word. “We should go back in,” she said quietly. “Before there is talk.” She takes a deep breath as if marshalling her courage. “I suppose if I stand still Lt Groves might ask me for a dance as well - he was proving very difficult to elude before.”

“Indeed,” James said. “And I suppose I will have to grant you another pair of dances. I did promise Lady Bellamy.” Elizabeth managed a small smile at that even if she knows this is the last time she will get away with it. She supposed in a way that made it even more special.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Elizabeth continue to socialise before James is startled by one of the effects of pregnancy on Elizabeth

The second event they attend as a married couple is at the Prescott House. Elizabeth had expressed her surprise that they received an invite at all. The Prescott’s have an unmarried daughter. As if James was not well aware of Catherine’s marital status - her parents have been dangling her under his nose since the day he had given Elizabeth free from their first engagement. But she promised sincerely she will behave and had granted the first set of dances to from Lt. Groves within a few moments of their arrival. James told himself it would be ridiculous to be put out. They had talked about this. But she did not have to stand up with another man _first._ He found a quiet spot with a glass of brandy and watched Elizabeth twirling through the steps with Theo Groves - he avoided pointed looks from several mothers because he had passed by several young women. It was rude to leave them without a partner, he knew. But he was no longer single and did not have an obligation to entertain them when there was a chance an eligible man might ask them.

 

Elizabeth as always looked perfect. Her hair was pinned neatly in a cascade of golden curls and her gown tonight is pale green and gold with a set of forest green ribbons woven in her curls, adorning her slender neck and around her waist where her gown hides the small swell of the child entirely. She behaves impeccably too - not even looking in his direction once as she let the lieutenant guide her down the set and she had barely finished that dance before she had accepted Andrew Gillette for the next. James told himself he was being ridiculous to dislike this. They had talked about it. And Elizabeth didn’t even like Andrew Gillette though he’d never been able to establish just how the lieutenant fell out of favour with Elizabeth.

 

He started slightly when he was joined by the host’s daughter. She was no doubt going to hover until he asked her for a dance. “Goodness Commodore, Mrs Norrington does look lovely this evening.” He glanced at Miss Prescott - that was a much kinder remark than he was expecting from the young lady who was known for being spiteful. “Still,” she continued. “It must be easy to have something new for every event, when you receive so few invites.” James bit back a scowl - that was ruder than expected

“Yes,” he said. “Everyone has been very kind about allowing us some time alone given we didn’t manage a honeymoon. It’s very considerate.” It was at least fun to see her look outraged at this interpretation of events. “Pray excuse me Miss. Prescott - I believe I see Lady Bellamy who I know wants a word.”

Catherine looks further upset he didn’t even ask her for a dance but honestly what does she expect. After insulting his wife. By the time he makes it over to Lady Bellamy Elizabeth is dancing with yet another officer - a midshipman this time and Lady Bellamy looked extremely smug. Ah he realised - of course it would be the officers that Lady Bellamy advocated with on Elizabeth’s behalf.

 

Still having Lady Bellamy on their side is a good thing. “I do hope you have allowed some space on Elizabeth’s dance card for me,” he said standing by her side.

“If you have not managed to attract your wife’s attention long enough to secure a dance, I don’t see that that is my look out. Commodore,” Lady Bellamy told him. “But I notice you have not stood up with a single lady when there are several girls without partners.”

James had significant leeway compared to Elizabeth, no-one policed men the way they do women. In this as in so many other things. “I cannot bring myself to it,” he said. “Not one of them can compare to my wife and you have my officers monopolising her.”

“Go find a wall flower,” the matron said severely. “And perhaps I will let you have your wife for the supper dance.”

Lady Bellamy was as good as her word and James managed to speak to Elizabeth twice that night - once when she finally pauses for a cup of punch and the dance they share before the meal. The rest of the time he shares two dances with old maids and dances with a girl so shy she neither speaks not looks at him for the whole set. He drinks half a dozen rum punches and several decent measures of brandy – including several when to his annoyance Lt Groves asks Elizabeth to dance again. The supper dance cannot come quick enough. But while he got to lead her into supper they of course cannot sit together and while they were close. Elizabeth spent the meal properly talking to those sat beside her. He did not think she had behaved this well at a party the entire time he has known her. When the carriages were called she was looking a little exhausted - she had danced all night and done her best for her reputation and of course she had other demands on her energy. And he had resented it all because she had not been by his side.

 

He did not realise he was so obvious about it until they were in the carriage to head home and she looked a little defeated. “Come on then,” she said. “Tell me what I did wrong this time.” He blinked – she had done nothing wrong that he had seen. “You have been glowering at me all night.” She told him and the hurt in her voice is like a slap. He drew her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her temple.

 “You have done nothing wrong,” he said quietly. “And I was not glowering. Not at you. But I have been envying your dance partners all night.” Elizabeth looked astonished at this. “I’m sorry if it seemed otherwise.”He managed – he had not meant to scold her for being sensible.

“But I was doing what I was supposed to,” she reminded him with a pout. “I’ve been good all night and bored out of my mind.”

“I know you have sweetheart,” he told her. ‘I watched remember? But I missed your company - I am used to having you all to myself.”

“Poor you,” she said merrily. “Struggling because you have a well behaved wife.” She paused a moment and then pressed a kiss to his neck. “Perhaps I could misbehave now - would that rescue your evening?” She shifted herself from being just close to right into his lap and he feels a thrill of arousal just from having her so close.

 

“Perhaps?” he said carefully, wondering if she could possibly mean what he thinks she does. They have a long carriage ride home before she can do anything but then she made it clear she did not mean to wait until they were home. He does not object when Elizabeth unfastened his breaches and began to stroke him firmly - it does not take anything to have him hard in her grasp - her skirts are a little more complicated and they struggled a little so it was a relief for both of them when he finally fought his way through her layers of petticoats and silk to tease her and then pull her down onto him, groaning at the feel of her around him. She whimpered his name and clenched around him as she rode him. James tugged at the neckline of her gown until it shifts enough to bare her breasts burying his face in her chest as she pants his name in his ear. When his mouth finds her nipple, she winds her hands in his hair and exhales sharply so he sucks hard and he felt and heard her find her peak as she tightened on him and moaned his name. The sound of that and the feel of her made it difficult to cling to the last of his control and when she caught her breath and picked up the pace he could no longer hold on, “Elizabeth,” he gasped into her skin as he filled her with his seed and she sighed her approval. Then she settled into his lap with a small chortle and kissed his neck. When he helped her out of the carriage, the driver could barely look at him and James thought back to the sounds Elizabeth made and he was no more quiet either. Could they be heard over the horses and the rattle of the wheels? Surely not. Elizabeth does not seem at all embarrassed though and near dragged him into the house and they stumbled upstairs sharing kisses as they went.

 

She did not ring for her maid and insisted that he help undress her. “After all,” she teased. “You made a good start in the carriage.” It took him sometime to unravel all the laces and fastenings of her gown but he can understand that he will have left her in a state that has meant she does not want a maid to see her He wondered if he should feel ashamed. He did not - it was not the proper way a man should treat his wife and perhaps he would never again take a carriage ride without thinking of Elizabeth _riding_ him. But as long as she was pleased by it - which it seemed she was, he cannot bring himself to care. When he has stripped her from her corset - he found himself shocked by the lines it has left on her delicate skin - surely such things are unnecessary and he pressed kisses to each red mark trying to sooth them.

“I don’t think you should wear these,” he said concerned. “It cannot be good for you or the child.”

“Some women wear them all through,” Elizabeth told him and pressed a kiss to his brow. “So it is not doing any harm for all it is bloody uncomfortable. But I do not intend to be a glutton for punishment, we have been wed three months now so I think I can start to suspect my condition soon and give myself some leeway.” He is not convinced and she can tell. “And I only wear them out now - the maids no doubt think me slovenly.” James wondered if he could convince her to not go anywhere until she had at least claimed to the maids she was with child so to spare her further difficulties. He was so caught up in this thought he barely noticed Elizabeth fussing with his own clothing and he let her lead him to bed surprised when she wanted his attention all over again.

 

This set the pattern of the next few days - he was on leave now and it was just as well. It did not matter how many times James lay with Elizabeth. How many times he used his hands and mouth and cock to make her convulse with pleasure - within a hour or two she was reaching for him again. He had briefly worried that she might be doing this to please him but her responses made it clear she wanted this. So he gave her way in this as in all things enjoying the closeness and the sensation of being with her and the sight of her as pleasure overtook her.

 

One night he was woken from a sound sleep - he slept like the dead on land generally, to find her making the small soft noises of want he knew so well with one hand between her legs . She started when she realised he was awake and he could tell in the moonlight she was blushing again. “Sorry,” she said as she buried her face in the pillow. “I’m sorry. I think there is something wrong with me.” This startled him.

“Are you in pain?” he asked completely ignoring what she had been doing that woke him “Is it the child?” He could not help the utter rush of panic and he got out of bed and lit a lamp fully prepared to go for a doctor. Or midwife.

 

“James!” Elizabeth scolded. “Stop it - come back here. I am not in pain. The child is fine.” He sat on the side of the bed, dizzy with relief, then realised how ridiculous he had been and blushed nearly as much as she was. She reached for his hand. “I am just needy,” she said. “ _All_ the time. Even we have just been together. I want you all the time.” James exhaled if she had not sounded so shamed, his relief would have been complete and he pulled her into his arms. He has rarely felt so relieved and he kissed her.

“I’ve been given to understand that is normal,” he told her which only caused her to pull away from him and flush further. 

“You talked about this?” she said outraged. “With who?” James was torn between reassuring her - she looked so upset and telling her it was Lady Bellamy - which she would deserve. But he cannot bring himself to upset her further not even in jest. 

“No-one,” he said. “I have spent the entire tour refusing to share any detail. But every officer with a wife feels himself morally obliged to give advice to a newlywed - even one who outranks them.”

“Oh,” she said in small voice and he pulled her back into his arms.

“And much of it was clearly nonsense,” he said. “But the two things I was consistently told was that wives are never more eager to be bedded than when they want to be with child.” He kissed her cheek. “Or when they already are and are relieved the sickness is past.” He kissed her mouth then and she arched under him. “And you Mrs Norrington,” he added. “Have not been sick for weeks.” His mouth slid down her neck and then onto her breasts and over her stomach and then he spread her legs and continued what she had started until she cried his name again and again and pulled him up to kiss her. “Still needy?” he asked - he was hard a rock now.

“Yes,” she said rubbing herself against him and he slipped inside her easily - he would never - never get used to how good that felt. To how beautiful she looked beneath him. To how unreal it felt to be with her.

“You only have to say,” he told her. “If you want me. Or my mouth. Or my hands.” He rocked against her slowly until she whimpered. “There is no time I will not be willing to oblige you utterly Elizabeth. I apologise if I have not made that clear.” 

Elizabeth had closed her eyes, her breath quick. “You can not be suggesting that I wake you in the night to say I want seeing to.” she said. “That would be - oh!”

James had quickened his thrusts at that sentence. “I assure you I have no objections to such an awakening,” he told her smiling against her neck. “But if I need to be more convincing.” he slipped a hand between her legs to touch her as he took her and she spent around him with a cry which triggered his own pleasure.

 

After that she does take him at his word. She woke him at least once a night and for once woke before him most mornings. She cornered him after lunch and before dinner . The two days he went to the fort to approve the work orders for the Dauntless’ repairs, she sulked when he left and near jumped on him the instant he returned. They are both so exhausted that if she does drag him off to bed in the middle of the day they both end up sleeping after. James had spent four days awake once during a gale off the coast of Africa. He thinks he is more tired now than he was then but a good deal more happy.

There is even an occasion where Elizabeth fainted at a garden party and when he had carried her back to the carriage, full of concern it is all feigned so she can have her own way. In the carriage again.

 

Shortly after this Lady Bellamy called on Elizabeth for a tea he was not invited to. But he is given a very knowing look when Lady Bellamy left and he raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth. What has she told her now.

Elizabeth laughed at the look on his face. “Do not worry. I have not been asking for advice on dragging you off to bed like some sort of hoyden. She was very concerned I fainted and wanted to enquire as to my health.”

“And,” he said as he fussed with a strand of her hair. “What does she think of your health?”

“Oh she is more outraged over the poor education my governess gave me.” Elizabeth said innocently. “Fancy never being told that missing my courses or sickness or fainting were signs I was _enceinte._ ” She kissed his cheek. “She only left so I could give you the good news. She is going to call tomorrow and advise me properly.” Elizabeth shrugged. “It cannot hurt - she does have children and no daughters. I think she’s rather fond of me.”

 

James could hear a wistful note in Elizabeth’s voice. He supposed it could not be easy for her to get all the womanly knowledge she might have expected to receive from her mother from servants or professionals – of one sort or another. “I will be sure to mention to the Admiral how much I am in his wife’s debt,” he said. Lady Bellamy would like that. “And I hope her advice will be of help.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Of course - the whole town will know soon,” she said. James nodded. Lady Bellamy was not discrete.

“I will have to go out,” he said cautiously, “to celebrate with the other officers.” He hoped she would not object - such celebrations traditionally did not go over well with wives but he hoped he had Elizabeth’s trust.

“I should think so,” she said and he relaxed at the note of laughter in her voice. “They might have some more useful advice.” This made him smile

“I would never do anything untoward at such an event,” he told her - though such things are common which they both know.

Elizabeth only looks smug. “As if you would have the energy,” she said. “I trust you, James.”She kissed him. “Besides I intend to have your attention before you leave _and_ when you get back.” She pulled him close and kissed his neck. “And now,” she added and he laughed and scooped her off her feet to carry her upstairs to answer her every whim.

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth's pregnancy becomes known to Port Royal and she and James carry on preparing for parenthood.

Lady Bellamy was full of advice for Elizabeth - starting with her diet. The amount of things that she could not eat was only eclipsed by what she should eat apparently. Elizabeth could not make herself eat liver no matter how good it was for the child - she had only just stopped vomiting regularly and did not want to start. But it was easy enough to drink milk and eat cheese to make her milk come in (she was surprised Lady Bellamy had not scoffed at her intent to nurse the child herself) and if it wasn’t quite as pleasant she could drink beef tea to strengthen her blood.

It was apparent Elizabeth had told Lady Bellamy at just the right time as shortly after she did her swell of the child seemed to grow more rapidly and by the time the gossip had spread round Port Royal it was visible even when Elizabeth was dressed. James remains ever fascinated and if Elizabeth was not quite as mad for intimacy now - she was quite happy to indulge his fascination with her changing body.

 

When his officers take him out to celebrate his upcoming fatherhood, she made him late for his own night out by dragging him off to the bedroom and using her mouth to drive him crazy - it’s been sometime since she indulged him in that fashion given how demanding she had been. Occasionally she had taken him in her mouth but he rarely got to finish there.

She did not think he minded being late and when he arrived home in the early hours - half carried by Lt. Groves he was in no fit state for her to demand anything after all. Lt. Groves was very merry himself, “Mrs Norrington,” he told her brightly while refusing to look her in the eye. “Congratulations on your happy news.” He grinned drunkenly as James squirmed out of his hold, straightening himself up as if he could sober himself up from sheer will. “The Commodore has told us all what a wonderful mother you will be.” He slapped James on the back. “Put all the girls off he did talking about his wife all night.”

Elizabeth laughed even as James looked horrified by the lieutenant sharing anything of their night. “Good night Lieutenant, your help is much appreciated,” she said pointedly and had a footman show him the door - she gives the man a penny to see the Lieutenant safely home - it was not his job but the Lieutenant had brought James safely home despite his intoxicated state. On his way out she could hear the Lieutenant telling the footman that Theo was a very fashionable name currently. Elizabeth did not think he realised his commanding officer had been replaced by one of his servants but she cannot focus on them - she had a drunken husband to deal with.

 

James did not want to be put to bed and when she did finally persuade him up the stairs he scooped her off her feet and carried her to what had become their bedroom, she had not slept in her own room in an age, wobbling all the way. He had a lot to say for himself and it was clear he remembered her demand that she have attention both before and after his celebration. “James you are too drunk,” she scolded and a little relieved when he deposited her in the bed. But he only shushed her and began to pull at her night wrap.

“I am not drunk,” he denied which amused her. “Except perhaps on you,” he adds. “I still cannot believe it,” he added his hands wandering over her. “That you are my wife. I have loved you for years - I have wanted you since your debut.” He spent the whole time he was talking touching her and while it was all so sweet his words mean she cannot help but feel guilty. He had implied such before but it was different to hear it so directly. It was almost a relief when trying to distract him with kisses takes him in a new direction. “You are so beautiful,” he told her. “I want to taste all of you. Touch all of you. Feel all of you.” His mouth drifts to her breasts which are swollen and sensitive and she squirms as he uses his mouth and hands to tease her nipples until she did not think she could bear any more.

James looked up at her and his green eyes are dark with drink and lust and she couldn’t help but ask - while he was being so direct. “Do you prefer them now?” she said “I have a more of a womanly shape since the baby. . .”

But he scoffed at this “Your breasts were perfect before and they are perfect now,” he told her firmly. He teased them gently. “The only thing I do like now,” he said suddenly and for a moment she held her breath but he only became more smug, “is how sensitive you are.” She flushed that he had noticed this but he was not wrong - every since the child had shown even the slightest touch drove her crazy and it was never only a slight touch James’ offered. He took one nipple in his mouth until she cried his name and then moved to the other and drove her quite mad. “Do you think you could spend just from this?” he asked. Elizabeth closed her eyes and did not answer because she could not think - because it was entirely possible she could spend from that and she thought she might. But then he lifted his mouth and kissed his way down her body and fastened his mouth to a sensitive spot on her thigh before he had more to say. “But I would not want to neglect you here,” he said as he lapped at her and she squirmed - he kept stopping to talk. To tell her quim was pretty and tight and sweet and she was reduced to wordless pleading as she was both embarrassed and excited beyond belief when he finally quieted and focussed his mouth where she needed it.

 

She had assumed he would want to have her after that but the brandy put paid to that idea and when she tugged him back up beside her he was asleep nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow. If he had been that talkative all night then that would explain Lt. Groves refusing to look at her. That or James finally had voiced his complaints about all the times Groves had dared to ask for two whole dances. She supposed she would find out the next time they were social - if James had bragged about her to all the officers she might not get any dances. Then she might be able to steal an extra one with James instead of having to behave.

Elizabeth woke long before him the next day and she was not sure what was worse, his hangover or his embarrassment. He was both mortified and ill - he looked green. She kissed his cheek and told him to stay in bed and sent him up some ginger tea to leave him to it in privacy. The retching sounds she heard later indicate the tea was no more helpful to him than it was to her.

 

She left him in privacy for another hour or so and then went to check on him to find him up and dressed but looking paler than she had ever seen him. “Poor darling,” she said pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How much brandy did you drink?” she asked. He only flushed and asked her to sit down.

“Elizabeth my behaviour last night was inexcusable,” he said. “I did not mean to speak to you so. Or to manhandle you when I was so intoxicated in your condition- I am ashamed to have-”

“Shh,” she said pulling him close. “You carried me all of four steps or so down the hall James, neither I nor the child were in the slightest danger.” She blushed a little herself. “And nothing you said was unpleasant to hear.” She decided to tease him a little, “nor was any of it news. You may never have been so explicit but you have always made your opinion clear.” It made her own confusion worse - there was more to her feelings than relief and lust - she was sure of that. But Elizabeth was clearly a poor judge of what love was. She distracted herself from that topic which made her feel bad. “I am more worried about what you told Lieutenant Groves - poor man could barely look me in the eye when he escorted you home.”

 

James remembered very little of the night out but he did spend the few weeks trying frantically to remember if he had spoken inappropriately to his subordinates about her. He denied it of course but Elizabeth could tell by the way his brow furrowed whenever he was thinking about it it plagued him. She tried to tell him she did not care but he was unconvinced. She supposed James’ telling a tavern of officers (and anyone else who was listening) just how much he enjoyed having her could only help with their other lie. But she was not entirely sure telling James that would reassure him at all.

 

Instead Elizabeth distracted him by demanding his help planning for the child. She threw herself into decorating with a fervour that only concerned him and her father. She made James look over catalogues of baby furniture and fabric samples. He was no use at all and only ever assured her whatever she wanted for the nursery she could have. “Well obviously,” she told him impatiently. “But I want your opinion. Which cradle do you like best?” It seemed like rather a lot of pressure for her to pick everything for the child. On top of being fat and having a constant headache and weird stomach churning pressure that seemed to come and go. She scowled at him and he came to her side at once. He was being unbearably sweet.

“I like whatever you want best, sweetheart,” he said desperation in his tone. Elizabeth flung the catalogue on the floor and went upstairs to rest. James chose not to follow her which was good because if he was sweet to her anymore she might have cried and if he didn’t just man up and pick something she was going to shout at him and neither of those were ideal.

 

When she eventually calmed down she decided she was going to get the catalogue and take it into the garden and shoot it and pick a crib that way. Surely announcing this plan to James might make him actually choose something and if not her aim could do it.

When she got downstairs thought there was a letter addressed to her - not a note or an invite but a proper letter from England. James looked a little wary of her. “I have not read your letter,” he assured. “But my mother has anticipated us,” he said. “She has sent a whole crate of family heirlooms. To encourage me now I am finally married.” And there in the middle of the living room in the midst of some very dreadful wrapped china, was a cradle. It was dark wood and set on rockers and while it would not be what Elizabeth might have chosen - “Was that yours?” she said.

“Well I cannot confirm myself,” he said wryly. “ We all know how little use my memory has been of late. But my mother has said so.” Elizabeth found herself touched by the idea of an heirloom for the baby. Her father had gotten rid of all such things after her mother’s death - an event Elizabeth had never liked to dwell on and even more so these days.

“You did not tell her” she said self consciously her hand falling to the swell of her stomach. Of course why should he not be honest with his family if he wanted to yet she felt suddenly embarrassed and nervous of her letter - what would a woman write to a daughter in law who was carrying an illegitimate child.

“No,” he assured her pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her hair. “It is just a hint from her - I have a four page letter detailing how I am not getting any younger if I should want a large family. There is a family portrait in there somewhere.”

 

Elizabeth abandoned him at once to peer in the box and pull out the large painting and strip off the protective paper. The family portrait showed a rather stern man in uniform and a smiling woman with four children. Two young boys in military style dress jackets, a girl in a silk dress to match her mother and an unbreeched baby boy in his own rumpled skirts holding on to both his sister’s skirt and a drum. James looked mortified and she realised that both the older boys have brown eyes. She had known of course he was a younger son - nearly all military officers were and he had spoken unflatteringly of at least one older brother. “You are the baby,” she said delighted - she hadn't realised. Elizabeth, of course, in the grand scheme of her family was the eldest and did not feel precluded from this position at all simply because she had no younger siblings. “You were adorable. We shall certainly hang this in the nursery.”

James looked like he might argue for a moment and she turned her gaze pleading and he kissed her and gave in. “Alright,” he said gruffly. “At least no-one but you and the nurse will see it in there.”

Elizabeth made an outraged face. "I see," she said. "So you will never go in the nursery then?"

James pulled her close. "I will be much to busy with our child to be looking at horrendous portraits." She laughed.

"Fair's fair James - you've seen all my father's paintings of me." There was a sizeable collection of such at Government House. "Perhaps he might even part with one," she offered. "For a matched set."

James laughed. "I am not sure he will be persuaded - he is rather attached." 

"Well I am sure when I promise him a family portrait with his grandchild when it arrives he will be convinced," Elizabeth said brightly. "And we will have to send one to your mother." He cannot criticise that she is sure.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Elizabeth discuss some family history.

It was shortly after the nursery was fully prepared that his father in law announced his intent to throw a ball to celebrate his coming grandchild.

James was relieved. Elizabeth always seemed to get along with her father when he was there but James had not forgotten the time she had been upset at a sense of vague disapproval from her father. James could only assume his father in law had gotten over his disappointment thathis daughter had given herself to a man outside of marriage. James had tried to make clear to his father in law just how much he wanted the child regardless of parentage though conversations with the Governor were frustrating. He had expressed a hope Elizabeth might at least have a daughter in a very hush hush tone several times now.

Of course he would expect James to want that – so his eldest son would be his own. And it irritated James no end – when he had been engaged to Elizabeth the first time he had spent some time – _too much_ time he had later thought – picturing their family. And having known Elizabeth as a child it had been easy to picture just what their daughters would be like. He had always pictured their first born being a girl. But now if he said that it would be taken as some sort of rejection of having to raise Turner’s son. But it wouldn’t be Turner’s son - it would be his and Elizabeth’s and he meant to convince Elizabeth of that even if her father was a lost cause. But then he had a conversation that made him not care if the babe was a boy or a girl.

 

It was after Elizabeth’s father had parted with a painting in the end that the topic had come up. At first the painting had amused James no end. Elizabeth was a toddler in the portrait, she though she was three perhaps - standing between her parents and the painter had clearly found it amusing to capture her mutinous expression. “Did you not like standing still?” James asked innocently only to have Elizabeth cheerfully admit she still did not. But she looked very like her mother - Elizabeth was a little taller perhaps than her mother he thought but still -if it had not been for the old fashioned dress and the younger  Weatherby Swann standing beside her he could have believed it was a painting of Elizabeth - with some sulky young cousin perhaps.

 

He wondered if it had been a mistake to request the painting - Elizabeth never mentioned her mother and he did not want anything in the nursery that would make her sad. But she seemed quite pleased with the matched set. “I should have asked your father if he would part with one of the paintings of you as an infant,” he said. There were two he had seen in Government House. Of her mother sitting holding her, while her father stood behind them.

But Elizabeth went quiet then for a long moment. “There aren’t any of me of an infant,” she said eventually - very quietly. “The paintings of babies - one of them is John, and the other is Charles - I think. It was before I was born. They were the ones who lived the longest most of the other babies only lived a few days. But my mother stopped having the paintings done after Charles.” 

 

James took her hand and guided her to a seat - the only one in the nursery was a rocking chair and he knew she was upset because she let him persuade her to sit rather than arguing with him that she did not need to. “I’m sorry Elizabeth - I had no idea.” Then he immediately feels dishonest - he had some idea of course. He had known child birth had taken her mother - he had not known how to bring that up at all.

“No, how could you?” she said curling up in the chair a little, her face suddenly pale.“My father lets everyone think those paintings are me - it’s so much easier. They argued over it you know - my mother was determined to have a boy - my father thought it was foolish. None of the ones who came after me were even born alive. And the doctors said it was hopeless. But she was determined and Father was never able to say no to her. He blamed himself for her death.”

 

James was just caught up in a sudden horror of the whole thing and he knelt before her trying hard to think how to even ask and was ashamed when she leaned down to touch his face, one hand skimming his cheek as she searched his gaze, her brown eyes soft with concern. “You mustn’t worry about me James,” she said. “My mother’s spent all her pregnancies abed. They drained her. I have never felt better ever since the nausea stopped - I promise you. All will be well.” But she was very serious when she said. “But I meant what I said - about not doing this above two or three times. Even if they are all girls.”

“I would never ask you to,” James vowed at once. After what she had said now he would be happy with one child as long as it was born healthy. And he could hear the hurt in her voice and he could not imagine what it must be like to know she had not been enough for her mother. He had always known he was superfluous in his family being the third son and last born but that was better than not being enough.

 

“You know - I did not dare say it - I thought it might be taken the wrong way but I always pictured our first born being a daughter. When we were engaged the first time - whenever I thought of our having children I could only think of you - marching around the Dauntless, fearless and inquisitive. I think you were bolder than I was aboard ship for the first time and I was enlisted.” She had had a knack for finding the most superstitious sailors - who had all shared Mr Gibbs opinion on miniature women- to ask question of even though she had been constantly told to approach the officers if she really must ask a question. “That was how I pictured our daughter.” This had at least made her smile before he carried on.

“But given circumstance I did not want you to think I would reject the baby if it is a boy,” he said. “I will love the baby because its yours. I’ve always thought of the child as ours.” Perhaps it was a sign he was deluded over her but he did not care. Blood was not everything.He was not close to any of his blood family due to distance and even if he’d been in England he only really liked his sister. His mother was too inclined to fuss and treat him as if he was the twelve year old that had been sent to sea and his father had very little use for a third son - last born and least wanted. And the least said about his older brothers the better.

 

When James was his most happy with Elizabeth he sometimes guiltily wondered if he ought to be grateful for her condition. Not just because he wanted to be a father but Elizabeth had barely accepted him this time with a child on the way. If she had been unencumbered he did not think he would have ever convinced her - in fact he would not have even tried if she had not been about to run off to Nassau. And he was quite sure that he had gone some way to making her happy even if she did not feel the way he did.

 

“Goodness James,” she said and her eyes were shining with tears which alarmed him somewhat. She took up one of his hands and kissed it. “I do not think any child will ever have a better father.” Then she smiled a little. “Which is just as well as we are apparently to have a houseful of children just like me. I was rather hoping you would be a calming influence.”

“No,” James denied. “I was planning on spoiling them rotten. Just like I do their mother.” Elizabeth laughed and pulled him close to kiss him.

“On your own head be it,” Elizabeth said. “When you are grey before your time.” She slipped his hand she held to her stomach and held it there - James splayed his fingers to do his best to cup the swell of the child in his hand.“They are listening you know,” she told him. This did not make sense at all to him until there was the oddest feeling beneath his hand. A strange shifting and then a small thump. Then he realised what she was sharing with him.

“Is that the baby?” James said his voice pitching with excitement so he sounded like one of the teenage midshipman which made Elizabeth laugh.

“Indeed. That is your daughter,” Elizabeth said her voice full of pride. “Or son. They’ve only been doing it a little while - I thought it was stomach ache until I felt it from the outside.” The thumps only get stronger at the sound of their voices and James presses a kiss to the swell of her stomach awed. It could not be November soon enough for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth comes to a realisation when a certain pirate ship is sighted.

The ball her father held to celebrate her pregnancy was an absolute crush. It seemed that she had been forgiven as a respectable married lady and not one invite had been declined. It was a typical Caribbean September which meant impossibly hot - even after the sun had set. Her father had opened all the windows and doors of the ballroom and covered them in swathes of mosquito netting but there was little to no breeze so they barely stirred.

If people knew that Elizabeth was due in November she would not have been permitted this event. But the pretence was that the child would not come until after Christmas so she was just about fit to appear in public - however whale like she felt. But James repeatedly had assured her she looked beautiful in her cream gown edged with gold and navy embroidery, in fact it was all she could do to get him to stop his hand wandering and messing up her carefully set hair. “Tonight,” she had promised him with a laugh. “Don’t be so impatient.” Then she had wandered off to add perfume while he stared open mouthed and outraged at the accusation

Given the occasion of the ball Elizabeth was spared from having to dance over much. She shared a dance with James of course and her father stood up with her too for once. He rarely danced.

 

Then she shared two dances with Lieutenant Groves who was in a teasing mood. “I do wonder if I might have offended you Mrs. Norrington.” he said as he turned her in the set. “Your husband expressly forbade me from dancing more than one dance with you when we were out celebrating your coming parenthood.”

“Did he,” Elizabeth said with a smile. James’ showed her he loved her all the time but it was nice to receive little reminders such as this unexpected jealous streak. “I do wonder at your deliberate disobedience Lieutenant. Do you wish to thumb your nose at your commanding officer.”

“Oh I doubt the Commodore remembers,” the Lieutenant told her in a low tone as if he was speaking confidentially. “If so he wouldn’t have repeated it four times on the night. It is quite unreasonable though - having snatched up the prettiest cleverest girl in Port Royal he cannot even spare you for a pair of dances.”

“Goodness, I’d think you were wanting me to put in a good word with James for you,” she said. “If you weren’t courting his wrath.”

“Well,” said the Lieutenant, grinning cheekily at her. “The fact of the matter is disobeying the Commodore outside of the military realm is something he will not hold against me - he is far too fair. Lady Bellamy on the hand? Is well known as a grudge holder. And if I am in her bad books I will get to dance with no pretty girls at all.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Well I will not be in society much longer,” she said. “But I promise to put a good word in for you with Lady Bellamy.”

 

He guided her back to James’ side at the end of the dance and bowed to his commander with an earnest smile. “Sir,” he said. “Your wife is a delight as always.”

James watched him rather sternly until he retreated and Elizabeth kissed his cheek. “Don’t be so cross,” she said. “Groves danced with me when hardly anyone else would. Isn’t he one of your best Lieutenants? I think you ought to consider him for godfather.”

James’ softened at that. “You know very well we are asking Lady Bellamy and the Admiral,” he said. Elizabeth did - she liked Lady Bellamy at least and the Admiral was inoffensive enough she supposed. But it was another very political decision they had made because of her and to minimise the scandal she had caused.

But at least she would be spared Lt. Gillette who she had never quite forgiven for mocking her. It would serve him right if a mermaid flopped up on deck and _ate_ him. Though she was not quite sure she believed Jack’s tales about cannibal mermaids - he had been very convincing of course but he always was. And while she had learned some unbelievable things were true - she was sure there was not enough room in the world for all Jack’s tales to be true.

 

They do leave the ball relatively early - Elizabeth tires easily these days and James did his best to make her rest. She had to remind him quite strenuously that he promised her he would always see to her need.

It was harder now of course with her growing stomach to find ways that work for him to have her. James made it clear she did not have to please him - that he could keep her satiated with his hands and his mouth. Elizabeth had made it equally clear that when she wanted him she would have him - right up until October when the midwife said she couldn’t.

The easiest ways were for her to ride him - but James thought this was too much exertion for her. Or for him to cradle her in his arms holding her against his chest and slip into her from behind, and slowly rock into her while his hands ran over her driving her quite wild. He nuzzled her neck during and he could easily make her spend three times while he was being so slow and careful and intense. Then she could sleep in his arms peaceful and content.

* * *

 

They are breakfasting the next morning when the runners come and James spent the morning in his office. She knows from the look on his face when comes out he was going to sea - but there was something else on his face and she suddenly fears he was going to announce a months long tour. But instead he took her to the garden and told her the reason he was going to sea. “There have been sightings off the Cayman islands,” he said. “A pirate ship with black sails - merchants there are agitating and when the rumour reaches here they will do the same.” Of course they would. The Black Pearl had a fearsome reputation that was owed more to Barbossa’s time as Captain than Jack’s but any pirate ship would inspire panic.

Elizabeth had hoped Jack would have the sense to stay away from the waters James’ patrolled but she knew there was no guarantee of that. She had not let herself dare think on what she would feel if this happened and now it had. James looked stricken and she suddenly felt a flare of guilt that he had no confidence in her at all. Had she not given him even reason to hope, she might pick him.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “He planned to go to Singapore next when I left. I did not think.” She had hoped she would never have to face this. But she did. And she chooses James. Damn Jack anyway - he must have known she would come home. If she was not married she could only imagine what this would have done for her reputation to have the ship she had crewed on be spotted- Jack had the whole world of oceans - must he plague the Caribbean. And then Elizabeth took a breath and chose a side. She had married James. She had made him vows and they were going to be parents. “The _Pearl_ lost three guns,” she said. “On the starboard side - cracked barrels- one nearly exploded. The previous Captain did not care too much for maintenance when his crew were immortal. They just waited until they exploded and acquired new ones from the merchants they took. Jack mighthave acquired replacements by now but if not - even moving the guns it’s weaker a starboard.”

James stood stock still as if he could not quite believe she had ventured such information. For a long moment she wondered if he considered her as much a traitor as she did herself. But she was no longer a pirate, that was the bargain she’d made and she had given James her word as his wife. Her loyalty lay with him now. But more than that - she knew now what she had not allowed herself to realise before. She loved James - had realised the instant she had ventured the information. She _loved_ James and she would choose him over the entire crew of the Pearl every time again and again.

 

The only slight consolation was that she knew Jack would not stand and fight against the _Dauntless._ That was madness. Especially if James led against the Pearl’s weak side. The _Dauntless_ could not catch the _Pearl_ if Jack had sense enough to flee. The _Dauntless_ was built for war - not speed.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I will try - I will do my best to ensure I am back by November.” Then he spent the rest of the day at the Fort and she barely saw him before he sailed except for at night.

When the day he had to sail dawned she saw him off at the docks. She still had not told him she loved him. She was scared given the timing he would think it some sort of ploy to make him be lenient on the Black Pearl much as she had once accepted him to save Will. He took as much time as he could to farewell her on the dock - he had foregone spending the night aboard because he could not bear to leave her sooner and had point blank refused to let her spent the night aboard in her condition. This made Elizabeth anxious - what if he had missed something and it was her fault.

 

But just before he said goodbye she had a burst of panic. “We didn’t discuss names. If you aren’t back before the baby comes.” On one hand if he wasn’t back to claim the child even though it was early she will have to name a boy James. Which makes things easy at least. “Did all the troublesome girls you pictured when we were engaged have names?”

“Elizabeth,” he said with a flush and at first he thought he was scolding and then he realised he meant a namesake for her and she laughed. How pointless - no one would doubt her relation to the child.

“No,” she denied. “Too unoriginal - pick again.” She had to spend a good ten minutes threatening to call a daughter Hortensia in his absence before he finally was budged from Elizabeth.

“Claire?” he suggested. “My sister is called so and her youngest is James,”

“Claire,” Elizabeth agreed. “That’s lovely. If you really like it can be Claire Elizabeth - but only if you are here when she arrives.”

“As if I need extra incentive,” he said with fond exasperation. “I will be back within the month, Elizabeth. If I do not spot the pirates in that time I shall come back and call those merchants liars. I promise you.”

 

Elizabeth nodded and stole one last kiss before he was away and she watched the _Dauntless_ sail morose, standing on the docks until the great ship was out of sight.

Pregnancy had already seemed to slow time to an absolute grind but this was worse and Elizabeth knew this would seem like the longest month of her life. 


	15. Chapter 15

James had found a letter from Elizabeth in his cabin. He had no idea how it had gotten there. He suspected Lt. Groves, who he knew would not hesitate to conspire with Elizabeth. The letter was merely addressed to James in her looping hurried hand sealed with wax and the back had an admonishment that he was not to open it until he missed her. It smelled of her perfume.

James lasted two whole days before he opened it and he told himself he had not disobeyed her request. He did miss her _already._ The letter was short but sweet, she assured him she missed him already and that her plans to have tea with Lady Bellamy were not sufficient to distract her from this. James had been aware of this - Lady Bellamy had invited Elizabeth to call so she could in instructed on how to write an advert for a nurse. Elizabeth had freely admitted she had no idea as she had never hired staff so she was happy to take Lady Bellamy’s advice.

She had finished the note with an admonishment for him to be careful and to his absolute delight she had signed it it _‘All my love, Elizabeth.’_ It was foolish of him to obsess over a signature, he knew. But he did. She had not had to write that. He had folded the note carefully and tucked it in the book he had brought to read if he should acquire a moments leisure time. Elizabeth must have written this recently - after she knew he was leaving and why. Between that and her unexpected revelation about theBlack Pearl, James could not help the little seed of hope that planted. He knew she was happy currently and he thought her affection was unconditional but he could not help but wish that with time he might win her heart.

If he had - he might not care as much what the Black Pearl did and why a certain former blacksmith might wish to be in the Caribbean. He tried to remind himself that she would not want Turner after he had treated her so badly. No matter what permanent connection she had to him

 

They make good time on their way to the Cayman’s- Theodore Grove seems to be determined to make the men work at top efficiency without James even needing to give a single order. James’ interviewed the merchants himself and it quickly became clear that it had been the _Black Pearl_ that had been spotted - the description was quite clear. And two of the merchants were boarded and looted and therefore had had a personal introduction to Jack Sparrow who had come aboard to taunt the men while he robbed them.

But with no sighting of the Pearl occurring James could only take her last known heading and patrol the merchant routes. t felt like the most pointless flag flying exercise and the men are restless. He had Gilette and Groves set them to drills but he knows they were hoping for the prize money that would come from capturing the Pearl. They are dreaming, if they think he would try and take the Pearl - even if the Dauntless could match it for speed he would run out the long nines the instant it was in range. He did not intend to ask Elizabeth to attend the hanging of Jack Sparrow for a second time - the first had gone so well.

But worse than these reports was the report he received from Master Dyhern of the _Valkyrie -_ ridiculous name for a merchant tug that lumbers as she did. He reported that while he had had been robbed he had been able to offer safe passage to a young man - a blacksmith by trade - who had been pressed into service as a gunsmith by the pirates to repair their cannon but who had been no longer needed as they had replaced their guns. He had given a false name but James recognised the description as Will Turner right away.That the _Pearl_ was repaired was useful if disappointing knowledge. That Will Turner was not aboard was disconcerting and it only became worse to find he was no longer on the Cayman’s when he sent Groves to enquire to his whereabouts for the purpose of interviewing him for intelligence on the pirate vessel. He had of course taken ship for Port Royal a week ago.

 

* * *

James felt ill and foolish for feeling it. He had no reason to doubt Elizabeth now. Perhaps she did not love him but she was happy and settled. And she did not love Turner either. Not anymore.

Lt Groves argued fiercely they should make for Port Royal immediately. That Turner was now a notorious pirate and could be doing any amount of mischief _Black Pearl_ or no. James appreciated the effort and did order them back to Port Royal but via the merchant routes they had already patrolled. He could not beat Turner to Port Royal and he could not neglect his duty no matter what he wanted to do. He did have faith in his wife. He did.

 

The Dauntless made Port on the 30th of October. He had made it back before November as he had promised. Elizabeth was not amongst the wives and families on the dock and James told himself that meant nothing - she was two weeks away from child bed and should be resting. Still as he had so failed in concealing his worry from Lt. Groves he sent himinto town for word of Turner while he supervised the dismissal of the men and the inspections of the ship. They were nearly done when Lt. Groves returned with news that Turner had taken up residence and work at the smithy and was happy to tell anyone who asked that he was just as _pardoned_ as the Governor’s daughter. It was technically true and prevents James from having him arrested - he crewed with the _Black Pearl_ much longer than Elizabeth but they both were on the pirate ship well after the dates on the pardon’s the Governor had acquired.

 

But eventually James could head home to his wife, all the while berating himself for his nerves. Elizabeth was asleep on the lounge in the parlour. She looked tired and pale - almost unhappy. James was startled by how much larger she had grown. He did not think mid November was at all likely - she looked ready to drop it any day. She wore a linen night rail andwrap that had fallen open so that he could see the child was moving and it clearly was enough to wake Elizabeth who suddenly stirred with a groan. She smoothed one hand over her the swell. “Do you never sleep,” she said exasperated. Then she caught sight of him and a smile lit up her entire face. “James,” she said and he was flooded by relief just at the sight of her smile. He crossed the room to kiss her, sliding one hand onto her to feel the movement.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You have grown so much.” He realised almost immediately that this was not the most delicate way to phrase this.

“Oh have I,” she said cooly. “I hadn’t noticed.” There was an edge of hurt there and he pressed a kiss to her hand in apology.

“I am sorry,” he said.”It has been a long day. A long _month_.” And it seemed even longer since he had learned about Turner.

“I know,” she said. “And I have worse news for you.” That made his heart constrict. “I told Lady Bellamy we anticipated our wedding vows,” she said. “She has a great telling off planned for you.” She sat up - but it seemed a struggle. “She could see I did not have months to go but she has been very kind. She has given it out that I am ill and in confinement early because I am in danger of losing the child- she said that will make it seem more believable if I have an early child. I was terrified someone might say something to you about my precarious health before I could explain. It has been the most dull month.”

 

James stared at her. “You don’t know?” he said eventually.

She blinked at him. “Know what, James?” she asked. “The only people I’ve seen all month are my father, Lady Bellamy and my maid. None of them will dare say anything to upset me in my delicate condition.”

James did not want to tell her and he condemned himself for a coward for it. Then Elizabeth made it worse by leaning to kiss him.

“If it is bad news it can wait,” she said firmly. “We only have one day of October left to us.I know I am huge but you will just have to cope.” At first he did not understand and then he remembered the advice she was given by her midwife about when she would have to abstain. For a moment James was tempted. Beyond tempted. But he could not take advantage of her not knowing.

“Elizabeth - Turner has returned to Port Royal,” he said quickly before he lost his nerve.

Elizabeth flinched as if struck and was silent for a long moment.Then she exhaled. “So?” she said. “I am done with him James. _Done._ I thought I had made that clear. And I could spit for his timing, that is hardly going to help the talk. But I won’t let him spoil your welcome home.”

James holds her close while she trembled with temper, pressed a kiss to her hair and scooped her in his arms to take her to bed.

 

He could not calm her. Not with reassurance, nor with pleasure when she drags him down to the bed and winds herself around him with such energy it worries him nor with apologies that he worried over Turner’s presence at all. He holds her in his arms after feeling her tremble. He could not work out what it was - anger still, fear? She had claimed Turner had only hurt her incidentally not that he found even that acceptable. “Sweetheart,” he said. “It is alright, I will not let Turner near you. And if our child comes early well that is because you are ill. I will challenge anyone who says otherwise including Turner.” Especially Turner, he added to himself. He would go out and run Turner through in the morning if it would give Elizabeth a single moment’s peace.

“I can only imagine him going round town telling everyone who will listen that I am a pirate’s whore,” she said. Her voice twisted on the words, and somehow he knows that was a quote. Something Turner must have said to her on their parting.

James would shoot Turner where he stood if he heard he had been saying such things. Elizabeth sighed. “I had thought I was done having to care what people thought of me - when I left I thought I will never have to watch my tongue again or smile when at people who I despise. And then it did not seem so bad when I had a good reason. And now all of my behaving won’t matter because of _him.”_

 

James tried to reassure her - everything she said was true. “No matter how badly you parted Elizabeth, I am sure Turner has more sense than to come here and antagonise the Governor. The only pardon he has for capital crimes is held by your father.” Not to mention the main customer base for Turner’s more profitable work owed their loyalty to him. “He could have just wanted to come home.”

“I did not think he would,” she said. “He found other reasons to be at sea. But whatever his reasons - I do not want him here. I do not want him looking at me. At my baby and _wondering._ ” James could see her point.He did not want that either.

James could not argue with that. He merely held her close until she finally settled and slept. He would go and see Turner in the morning. What attachment did he really have to Port Royal - surely he could set up shop elsewhere if given reason and the means.

 

* * *

The blacksmith shop was quiet when James arrived the next morning. The fire was going but Turner was not working. If fact if the bottle in his hand was any indication he had learned more than sword smithing from his old master.

“Commodore Norrington,” he said his tone a sneer. “I understand congratulations are in order. Of a sort.”

“Thank you,” James said as if the words were sincere.   
  
“If you are here to call me out for interfering with your wife. I assure you she was more than willing no matter what she has said.” James glares coldly. Then he cut this line of conversation dead.

“Elizabeth claims that what passed between you was her idea,” James told him shortly - he was not going to stand there and let Turner play the martyr. That took the wind out of the boy’s sails somewhat. Even if made him no less guilty of taking advantage of her.

“Well I wish you well of her,” he said his tone dismissive. “If you are here to warn me to stay away or threaten dire consequences if I should smear her _good name_.” This statement was delivered with such sarcasm that James wanted to hit him even more than usual.“I want nothing more to do with her. A feeling I can only assume is mutual.” There was a cough from the room by the smithy and Turner looked up and then away his face set sulkily with a hint of panic. “But Port Royal is my home too and my livelihood is here. I have every right to be here.”

“And the rumour is you have been pardoned.” James said quietly. “For whatever acts of piracy you have undertaken. Though only my father in law could confirm it.” James knows that Will would never be granted an audience with the Governor and if he should arrest him he could not see the Governor objecting to that overly. “And I doubt that your acquaintance has a similar pardon. So I would not get overly attached to Port Royal if I were you. Mr Turner.” He paused. “If you did decide to move on I am sure that incentive to do so could be arranged.” But Turner turned away uninterested and James left frustrated- he could only hope Turner would see sense and take that offer.

 

He did not feel any better when he left the smithy and he almost dreads going home to tell Elizabeth that Mr Turner was not intending to leave. But his sense of failure only turned to panic when he on the walk home he was passed by Elizabeth’s maid. “Sir - oh sir. You must go home. Mrs Norrington has sent me for the midwife!” James had been less shocked by being shot and he picked up his pace and ran home as fast as he could.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a false start, a confrontation and a duel, there is a new arrival at last :)

Elizabeth had thought pretending to be ill was dull. But after waking to pains in her back and stomach and panicking the whole household, James and her father being on actual bed rest was much worse.

The pains had mostly faded by the time the midwife had arrived - false pains were not uncommon apparently in the last weeks of pregnancy but no chances could be taken - early babies did not often do well. Elizabeth knew that well enough.

For two days James did not leave her side. He waited on her hand and foot - as if they did not have staff and spent the days reading to her so she was not so bored. But she knew he had work at the fort and she had reassured him repeatedly he could go. She would be fine. In the end he only went if she gave her word she would send for him if she had the slightest twinge.

 

She was dozing when a noise startled her awake and she sat up as much as she could hopeful James was home. But instead she was horrified by the sight of William Turner clambering in her bedroom window.

“What are you doing?” she said appalled. “Get out.” She was starting to feel like he had come back to Port Royal just to ruin her reputation and this was certainly a good start.

 

Will stared at the sight of her - she knew she was enormous - even James had said so and he never had a bad word to say about her at all. She pulled the blankets around herself, pressing herself against the headboard and trying to suppress a frisson of fear. The last thing she wanted was for himto start wondering just how pregnant she was. “Well the Commodore certainly didn’t waste anytime,” he said to her utter relief. He crossed over to her wardrobe without reservation. “I need your help,” he said. “Get up.”

“No,” she said - she had no interest in helping him even if she could. “I _can’t_. Will I am confined and on bedrest.” Will ignored her and flung a dress at her bed, one hand resting on his sword which was a clear threat.

“That is just nonsense,” he said aggrieved. “Only rich women think they can just lay about until the child comes - it will do you no harm to get up and come to the smithy.”

“I am not going anywhere with you,” Elizabeth said hotly - she would not be seen dead in his company. “And it is not nonsense - I have been ill. What do you even want?”

 

Elizabeth knew Will very well and he knew her and she could see him contemplating just how stubborn she was going to be even as she knew he might draw the line at dragging a pregnant lady through the streets of Port Royal.

“My father is ill,” Will said eventually. “And I am not important enough to merit a doctor even though I am more than able to pay.”

Or more likely both doctors in Port Royal thought very little of Will and what they considered his social climbing ways, Elizabeth knew. “I will write a note,” she said - anything to be rid of him. “Pass me that box.” She waved at the mother of pearl box on the dresser hopefully.

“No,” Will said, making a face. “This is serious. I know you do not care a whit for my father but I do.”

 

As if Elizabeth should care who he cared for. “I am more than aware of how much you care for your father,” she said tightly.

Will had abandoned her twice to Jack’s care in his attempts to rescue his father and then decided to be jealous that she and Jack had become close. She could not believe she was having another argument about _bloody_ Bootstrap Bill.

She did not think Will owed anything to a man who had abandoned him and his mother when he had been no more than seven and done little more than send him a cursed coin since.

If the _Dauntless_ had not rescued Will when they were twelve he would have drowned and if the _Black Pearl_ had not attacked the merchant ship Will had been on. Will would have been an indentured servant having sold himself in Edinburgh to pay his passage out here. Jack had told her he had not even known Bootstrap had a son until he had met Will in Port Royal. And she made no bones about it either before their engagement had been ended.

 

“And you can go on caring,” she said hotly. “But I care about my unborn child and I would not risk their health for _you_ let alone your fucking father. So unless you plan to drag me through the streets - and somehow avoid every naval officer in Port Royal who will come to my defence. You will pass me that box and you can take your chances with a note.”

Of course the box that Will passes her is not a pen box though it there is a superficial resemblance. Elizabeth does have a mother of pearl pen set somewhere. But this was her present off James which she had regretted leaving on the dresser since she had laid eyes on Will and both pistols are already loaded when she points one at Will.

 

Will’s hand goes to his sword as she cocked the pistol aiming at him. “Get out,” she said. “Get out and go away and never come back Will.”

Will was furious but she was used to his temper but it was different now and she can feel the child shifting inside of her which it has not done since the scare yesterday and it only makes her more determined.

“Lying whore,” he told her, advancing on the bed. “You were never much use with a gun.”

“I have had nearly a year to practice,” she said. “These were a wedding present. And if you hurt me - James will hang you _and_ your father and leave you to rot as a warning on the cove. If I shoot you - well you broke into my room and threatened me and my child. I am sure the _Governor_ will see that as extenuating circumstances.” Of course she could shoot Will dead in the street and her father would have a reason why that would never get to trial.

 

Will did not seem to take her seriously at all and he took a step closer to the bed and Elizabeth realised she might have to shoot him and then the child kicked hard causing her to inhale sharply, her aim shaken and it was all the opening he needed to grab her. She tried to wrench away from him and hit her head hard on the bedpost.

In her panic she pulled the trigger and Will reared back hard and she cursed. The bullet had barely grazed him - he had a bloody scratch on his forehead and she was stuck by the image of what had happened if she had hit him and sprayed his brains over her bedroom and she leaned over the side of the bed to vomit. This made Will draw back disgusted and she managed in between retches to close her hand around the second pistol.

“You shot me,” he spat.

“I did,” she said her head aching where he had forced her against the bed post. “And if you do not get out now I will shoot you again.” She took a shaky breath. “I am going to count to ten. If you drop your sword and get out before I get to ten I will send a note for a doctor to attend your father on pain of my father’s displeasure.”She took a shaky breath. “Or if you don’t I will shoot you in the leg and send James to arrest your father and we will see which one of you succumbs to jail fever first.”

 

Will went out of the window before she got to three. Elizabeth does not have it in her to write a note - she sends a footman to the doctor - she will keep her word at least and the maid for the midwife. She is not having pains but the child seemed as panicked as she was and will not keep still which she does not think can be a good sign.

The midwife does not think so either and gives her a dose of laudanum which knocks her out.

She wakes to find James in a chair by the bed, his face drawn. He does not notice she is awake at first and she does not think she has ever seen him so furious. And his eyes are wet. She sits up and winces - she had a headache still and she can only hope the bruise she knows she has does not extend past her hairline.

 

The baby was not shifting so manically now- just a slow steady stretch that reassured her. She reached for James’ hand and pressed it to her stomach. “We are both fine,” she said reassuringly and James seemed to let go of a breath and he brushed a curl away from his face.

“Turner will pay for this,” he said steadily. “I will call him out.”

“I know,” she said. She had known really it was coming to this since she had heard Will was back - perhaps if Will had left her alone entirely it could have been avoided. “But not right now please,” she held tightly to his hand and after a long moment he slipped on the bed beside her and settled her in his arms his hand settled on the swell of the child.

 

Elizabeth distracted James like that for several days. She does not want to take more laudanum and she feels safer when he was near which made her feel pathetic. But she was in no position to pick a fight and all her sword training came from Will who had made sure not to teach her anyway to beat him though she had picked up some tricks on her own.

James has his paperwork from the fort sent to the house and Mr. Turner was watched by a parade of marines. Ten days later he puts his father on a ship to Nassau - he must have recovered. But Will does not go anywhere. But it was a close enough call for James and his dawn appointment with Will was made for the next day.

He comes back bruised and his shirt is bloody. “It is not my blood,” he reassured. Elizabeth does not ask after Will. She wonders but she would not dent what confidence James’ has in her by asking. He clearly won. But did he kill Will?

 

Her maid finds out for her of course - it was a close fight but James had not let Turner goad him - Elizabeth could die a little inside at the thought of what Will might have goaded him with. But when he had won he had spared Will’s life only in exchange for his word that he would leave and never come back. Elizabeth wondered if he had done that for her. If James still thought she still cared for Will. But one night in bed he apologised to her if she had wanted him dead.

“I wanted him gone,” she said. “And you have done that.” She does wonder why James had spared him though.

 

One week later Elizabeth wakes with a headache that never really shifts, her back hurts and she cannot bear to eat a thing. Her maid fusses round excited and James does not leave her side.

She waited and waited for the pains everyone seemed to expect and by the end of the day was just annoyed. It was past mid November now and she wanted to meet the baby. At least Will had been a good distraction from how miserable pregnancy was.

 

It was of course the middle of the night that she woke to the ache in the back and when gets out of bed to wake some she ruins her night rail with a flood of fluid. Well then. This must be the real thing.

She was unbelievably restless and in the interest of not being fussed over she abandons James tohis sleep and goes back to herbarely used room to pace. Moving was the only thing that helped the pains at all and she can only imagine James would want her to sit and rest.

Of course he noticed she was gone almost right away. That or the fact that when the pain does hit she cannot keep quiet. He looked slightly betrayed that she had abandoned him and she bursts into tears at the sight of him. “Do not make me lie down,” she begged. “I cannot bear it.” So instead he offered his arm and led her round the room while she cursed and complained and reacted quite badly to any comfort he offered. But then she realised she still had not told him. “James,” she said. “I do love you you know.” But he takes this the wrong way entirely - that it was some kind of sop in case she died in childbirth and he doesn’t even look pleased.

“You will be fine,” he told her and kissed her hair and then a pain hits and distracted her from telling him off.

 

Then the midwife arrived and she knew James would be sent away. She clung to him most relentlessly until the midwife said he could stay as long as he stayed away from the business end. Elizabeth tried to laugh at the horror on his face until another pain hit.

It took the whole night and the best part of the next day for her labour to be productive and Claire Elizabeth Norrington came screaming into the world just as the sun went down.

 

It feels like everyone in the world gets a look at her before Elizabeth. The midwife hands the baby off to James so she can deal with the rest of what comes with child birth with Elizabeth. And then she was off with her new nurse to be washed and her father and Lady Bellamy and even Lt. Groves apparently are all downstairs all clamouring for a look.

James comes back to check on her and it was only his smile that let he know something had not gone awfully wrong. “Are you alright darling,” he said stroking her cheek. “You did so well.”

“James,” she said. “If you do not bring me my baby right now. I am going to shoot someone.” Possibly him, her tone implies and he waved in the nurse at once. The girl was only a teenager and now she looked nervous as she settled the baby in Elizabeth’s arms.

The baby squirms and then yawns and wriggles slightly. “Oh,” Elizabeth said. “She’s quite pretty isn’t she.” Not all squashed like some babies were.

“Indeed,” James said his voice full of pride. “She is almost as pretty as her mother. But she has had a rather trying day.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Elizabeth settle into new parenthood.

James could not quite believe how much he could feel for such a tiny being. Claire was entirely perfect, the picture of her mother and perhaps slightly easier to placate.

Elizabeth doted on the baby with a fierce possessiveness that warmed his heart. They had hired a nurse but she mostly helped the nursery maid with the apparent mountain of laundry that the babe seemed to generate.

 

James tries not to interfere too much – Elizabeth was still recovering from both the ordeal of Turner’s threats and the trauma of childbirth. The midwife had said she was doing well and encouraged her to rest. Of course, by this, the midwife meant to hand the child over to the nurse. All Elizabeth did was nap whenever Claire did – which was often.

And this was when James got most of his time with the baby. Claire fell asleep every time she was nursed after which Elizabeth would settle the baby in her crib, which somehow had been moved from the nursery to their room rather early on, not that James minded, and fall into bed to sleep herself. But Elizabeth left to sleep would be dead to the world for some time and Claire would be awake in an hour when James could steal her from the crib and cradle her close. He still was in awe of how small she was – he had learned not to say so out loud.

 

* * *

Elizabeth would scold a little when she eventually awoke – especially the first time she woke to an empty cradle and panicked until she had found him in the next room wandering back and forth with Claire. “If you must do that, you had better not go far,” she had said, once she had calmed and he had promised he would not instantly contrite. “It makes my heart stop to wake to find her not there.” So, James found himself sitting in the window seat with his daughter watching her blink up at him, while Elizabeth slept in their bed. It was the oddest sensation but wonderful – Claire freshly woken from a nap was still full, still sleepy and very content.  She shifted in her blankets constantly – that had startled him. He had never held so young a child before – all of his sibling’s children were in England and had been older when he had finally seen them. He had briefly wondered if all children were so fidgety or if perhaps this was a sign Claire would be restless – like her mother. She was so like Elizabeth – and when he did get a hold of her he spent his time marvelling over her big dark eyes and the soft cap of blonde hair and her perfect rosebud mouth,

Everyone agreed she was a beautiful baby, Lady Bellamy, possessive as she was of her title of godmother, had even suggested – that instead of her husband, they name a younger man godfather. Adding in her irreverent way that it was because James would need someone to help him fight off the suitors when Claire came of age and was even more stunning than her mother. So, Groves had gotten his way after all. Though at least he was far too frightened to hold the baby – Lady Bellamy was just one more rival for Claire’s attention in James’ eyes along with the Governor who was enchanted (as he should be) with his granddaughter.

 

* * *

The christening itself was an event – by the time Elizabeth was churched it was held two days after the best Christmas of James’ life, (where he had been fully permitted to dote on both wife and daughter,) with near the entire town in attendance. The minister was most put out he cannot persuade them to add Mary as another middle name in honour of the season but that was his look out. Claire howls the entire time he had hold of her which Elizabeth later claimed was a marker of her good taste but settled in her mother’s arms contentedly, once the christening was over. If anyone had questioned Claire’s parentage James had yet to hear it and life seemed quite perfect.

Until he got orders to sail. He had never been as unhappy to do his duty and Elizabeth touched him by not only giving him more time with Claire and but by spending the time painting a new miniature of herself and Claire. He was enchanted with it and she laughed at his fascination. “I hope you don’t plan on staring at that all day – we are right here. You can save it for when you are at sea.” James put the miniature away chagrined but was rewarded with a kiss. “I was only teasing,” she assured.

 

* * *

The night before James sailed, Elizabeth pulled him close the instant the baby was down for the night. He was beyond tempted – it had been so long and he wanted her but he was keenly aware of what she had gone through – after being present at childbirth, James would have easily agreed Claire be their only child. He did not want her to rush her just because he was going away.

Elizabeth was having none of his demurring though. “I am fully recovered,” she told him squirming in his lap. “Which you would see if you just stopped fussing.  We have a limited window before we have an audience you know.” She nipped at his neck, “I want you James, please let me show you.”

James did not want to believe she would lie to him about something so important and he was never able to deny her anyway. He leant up to kiss her, “I promise I will be gentle,” he assured her running a hand up her back.

Elizabeth laughed and began to tug off his shirt. “I don’t,” she told him and pressed him down to the pillow the instant his nightshirt was off.

 

She wasn’t either – she kissed and bit and clung and barely stayed still as he let his touch roam over her. She made a small fuss when he reached for her nightgown to remove it and he stopped at once.

“Elizabeth, you cannot think I could ever find you anything but beautiful,” James told her earnestly.

She paused for a moment. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she said. “It is just as well I am not predisposed to be vain.” But she did let him take the nightgown after that and he did mean it when he said she was just as beautiful with her figure slightly softened by childbirth.

Elizabeth was even more sensitive than she had been, every touch he made had her gasping his name in a way that drives him quite crazy. When she sank on to him she stilled and he blinked up at her worried until she learnt to kiss him and then began to move _slowly._ Being as gentle as he promised was both difficult than he thought and simple all at once. He would never want to hurt her and he settled his hands on her hips letting her set the pace. He did not think he had ever been more grateful than when she moved his hand asking silently for more and he touched her gently until she shuddered with pleasure atop him and then leant to kiss him and rolled him so he was atop her.

 

James rocked gently against her and she held onto his shoulders, kissing his neck and telling him again and again that she had missed this. That she wanted this. Wanted him. And that was all he needed to hear to let himself go, holding her as close as he could as he told her loved her.

Afterwards, they lay curled in each other’s arms, naked and satiated and a little bit watchful – but there was no noise from the cradle just yet. James was nearly asleep when Elizabeth horrified him by stating. “I think perhaps we should have waited a little longer.”

“Are you hurt,” James asked sitting up to stare up her, guilt washing over him so thoroughly he felt sick.

Elizabeth was just as alarmed by his reaction tugging him back down. “Not at all,” she said “I’m sorry that was wicked of me – I only meant. It seems a little foolish to remind myself just what I have been missing just as you are about to _leave_. This tour will seem even longer now.”

James was so relieved with that he could not even be cross with her and he pulled her back into his arms. When Claire did wake some time later Elizabeth handed her over as soon as she was done nursing – normally she could be quite possessive but given his coming absence she seemed prepared to be generous.

 

* * *

They both come to the docks to see him and the ship off. Claire settled in Elizabeth’s arms securely wrapped in blankets and struggling to free her arms so she could wave frantically which was her current favourite activity. When James bends over to kiss her goodbye, she managed to catch his coat and held on tight for a long moment with her flailing grip. Normally all she got a hold of was Elizabeth’s hair. “Look at that,” Elizabeth said proudly, “She doesn’t want you to go either” Claire burbled a little as he unentangled himself reluctantly. “Stay safe James – we will both be waiting for you on your return.”

James kissed her again. “I will be home as soon as I can.”

Elizabeth settled Claire again shifting her so she can blink up at James. “I know you will,” she said.

 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

Elizabeth found that time passed quickly while James was away. She was so tired and Claire took her time like nothing else she had ever undertaken.

James had been gone two months when Elizabeth woke one day on her own schedule and not to the shrieks indicating Claire was awake and hungry. She was not making any noise at all and when Elizabeth went over the cradle curious, Claire was awake. “What then,” Elizabeth said inquisitively brushing one finger over Claire’s soft cheek. “Not hungry little one?” Claire squirmed a little and blinked listlessly at the sound of Elizabeth’s voice.

Elizabeth frowned – Claire was not focussing which she had been doing for some time now and her gaze seemed glassy. Elizabeth brushed her cheek again and felt her stomach sink at the heat she had not noticed on the first touch. A fever. She scooped up the baby and rushed through to demand the nurse's attention. The nurse gives her a cool cloth to bath Claire’s cheeks and forehead with and sends for the doctor. Claire would not nurse and if Elizabeth took the cloth away to check her temperature again she whined and turned her head away from Elizabeth’s hand.

When the doctor finally called, Elizabeth could barely look at him. She had never _never_ considered this for all she should have. She knew how fragile babies were. How little it took to carry them off. She remembered the tiny coffins from her childhood and her mother’s tears and her father’s silence.

 

The nurse tries to console her – the fever was not too bad, Claire had not been sick or had the flux. But even as the doctor was examining her the cause of the fever had become apparent. Claire was coughing miserably and Elizabeth cannot bear it. The doctor had been kindly but straightforward. Warm baths – not cold to bring her temperature down gently, a little willow bark tea because she was too young for anything stronger and prayer.

Elizabeth could not remember being so terrified in her whole life, not at sea not when she had seen the cursed pirates in the moonlight. Her father came as soon as he heard but there was nothing he could say that was comforting, though. He knew just how fragile infants were and he merely held Elizabeth while she cried.

 

Claire coughed and wailed and no amount of wiping her little nose could keep up with the snot and she protested every spoon of willow bark that they tried to dose her with. It got a little better when they added honey to the mix as cook claimed it was good for a cold. It certainly made it easier to get the painkiller into Claire and that helped her sleep. And the honey was some nourishment as nursing remained difficult. Elizabeth felt like every nerve was in shreds at Claire’s inconsolable wailing but her father, who had not left since he arrived seemed relieved by it. Every time Claire did go to sleep he would hover over the cradle making Elizabeth anxious he would wake the baby.

“Please stop it,” she said one night. “You’ll wake her. It’s so hard to get her to sleep and she is so tired. She needs her rest.” She had sent for tea for her father but could not touch it herself but she poured him a cup in hopes of distracting him.

“I am sorry,” her father said coming to sit by her and putting an arm round her. “I just feel so much better when she is crying.” Elizabeth blinked at him confused. Claire sounded so miserable – how could it make him feel better. And her father seemed to regret his words and only her panic made him eventually explain.

“They get very quiet,” her father said quietly, his tone heavy with reluctance and a note she had heard not heard in his voice in some time, only when he spoke of her mother and that was rare enough even after all this time.  “All your brothers quieted anyway. Before the end.  You never did. You shrieked through every chill you took as a baby. It was awful to not be able to settle you but wonderful all the same.” Elizabeth’s stomach turned over. She had done her best not to think of her parent’s losses – and had been failing miserably. “Claire is just like you were,” her father said. “Takes me back years to see her. And she will be fine – just like you were.”

Elizabeth wanted to believe him – more than _anything_. And she was more grateful for her father’s presence and fussing over her than she had ever been in her life.

 

* * *

It was three days before the fever broke and Elizabeth did not sleep a wink the entire time. Her father taking turns to pace with her and watch over Claire. Elizabeth had broken down and cried in his arms the morning she leaned down to examine the baby and seen no flush of fever and then had felt Claire’s forehead and she had finally not been warm.

It had not been over entirely of course even with the fever broken, the cough had lingered and caused Claire to grumble constantly. And it interrupted her nursing which was often enough to set her off so she would not nurse at all and then she would cry because she was hungry.

 

It was exhausting – but Elizabeth did not care, she could only be grateful to be exhausted. And strangely - her father seemed more ashen now Claire had recovered than he had before. Nor had he gone home – he had said would stay until James came home. And he fretted constantly over her, over Claire. Eventually, Elizabeth sat him down, gave him a brandy. “Father – what is wrong?” she said. “If you need to be back at the Government House for work – I understand. I can manage.”

“Of course not,” her father said – which Elizabeth knew plainly was a lie – her father wrote four or five notes to Government House every day and a clerk seemed to appear every hour with more paperwork for him to read. “I can be here for my daughter and grandchild.” He took Claire from her and bounced her only for Claire to sneeze on him and then laugh. “Someone’s feeling better,” he said. And Claire was – the cough had waned and she was amused by the sneezes. But this was not an answer and he paused a moment. “I could not help thinking what might have happened if you were in Nassau,” he said. He held Claire a little closer and said no more.

Things could have been very different in Nassau, Elizabeth knew, if she had been able to establish any sort of household as a widow she might have had a maid of all work, but she would not have had a nurse to watch Claire and help her get medicine into her and she would not have had her father to reassure and comfort her.

“Oh Nassau,” Elizabeth said. “What an awful idea that was.” She wiped Claire’s nose. “I am so glad I stayed, Father.” She felt a little foolish talking about this with her father but perhaps he deserved some reassurance. “James makes me very happy you know.” She paused. “You are not to be smug about that.”

Her father laughed. “You are not getting away with that. I will not say I told you so but any parent is allowed to be smug their child is happy.”

“Alright,” Elizabeth said and kissed his cheek. “Now give me my daughter – I have to get her back to some sort of routine.” Claire pouted which made her father laugh.

“Best of luck with that.” he advised with a knowing smile.

 

 

* * *

Elizabeth had almost succeeded in having Claire back to a normal routine by the time the Dauntless was spotted. But she did not take Claire to the docks – just in case. James would understand and would see her soon enough when they return home.

She had a long wait on the docks – the Dauntless had been in battle and had several fresh marks along her bow. The marks of boarders or attempted boarders, scarring the great ship. Some of the rails were fresh too – the work of the carpenter at sea no doubt. Elizabeth wonders if there were many casualties and while she in the past she had always been perfectly sure James would return to her – right now she did not feel as steady and when she spies him aboard ship she was so flooded by relief she needed to sit down.

She threw herself at him when he finally disembarked. “Welcome home,” she said clinging tightly. James pulled her against him and kissed her much more deeply than was appropriate – in public too and she thrilled a little he had missed her so. But when he pulled back he seemed puzzled by Claire’s absence.

“Claire is at home,” she said. “But she will be thrilled to see you.” But she, of course, cannot refuse to explain entirely. “She had a chill and a fever,” Elizabeth loathes the word now. “I did not want to bring her out just yet.” She tried to seem calm about this – Claire was better now. She was fine but she cannot help the anxiety in her tone and James of course as always notices and holds her close.

“A fever – dear lord, Elizabeth,” James sounded so shocked that she felt guilty.

“She is fine!” she assured him. “Fine – the doctor says so. Even the cough is gone now – she is just a little snot nosed and she thinks it is funny when she sneezes. You should see her laugh – it is the most adorable thing.”

James seizes on this. “Laughing now?” he said eagerly. “Already?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said managing a smile. “Laughing – she’s grown so much James – come home and see her.”

 

* * *

Claire had been settled in her grandfather’s arms when they get home but he surrendered her to James easily enough. James cradled her close as if she was the most precious thing in the world and in reward for this good judgement the first thing Claire did to her father was to sneeze in his face. James did not seem to mind, though – he only seems bemused as Elizabeth wiped both his and Claire’s face and Claire laughs at him and her father welcomed James home before finally excusing himself.

Elizabeth went to the door and embraced her father. “Thank you,” she told him clinging a little.

Her father patted her hair and kissed her cheek. “Any excuse to spend time with my darling daughter and granddaughter,” he said. “I will have to make sure the paperwork allows me to do it more often in future.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “See that you do!”

 

She let James monopolise Claire for most of the afternoon only sending him off to bathe when Claire was hungry. “Did you miss Papa then?” she asked Claire after the baby settled against her breast, content, milk drunk and sleepy. “Mama certainly did.”

“Not as much as I missed both of you,” James said from the doorway, startling her. He was without his wig and had dressed informally – without even a coat. He knew she liked the look of him in shirtsleeves.

“You must have barely dipped yourself in that bath,” Elizabeth said in a mock scold. “Come here then – you can hold the sleepy miss.”

James came over eagerly but instead of stealing Claire from her arms he pulled her and the baby into his lap. “I would rather hold both my girls,” he said and she relaxed against him feeling whole for the first time since he sailed.

 

That night after Claire was secure in her crib, James would barely touch her in bed. “Did you sleep at all,” he asked as he brushed one hand over her cheek – Elizabeth knew she had deep shadows under her eyes. Half the household did. And what baby weight had remained had melted off her. She must look awful.

“Not until the fever broke,” Elizabeth admitted. “I was so scared. It was awful to see her so miserable. And I could not help but think of when I was small. My poor parents. I don’t know how they did it.”

James held her even closer. “I am so sorry I was not here,” he said.

“You are here now,” she said. “And I am glad of that. I would show you if you were not so stubborn.”

“Well, I am,” James said. “It appears to be a family trait,” he added. “So, you can show me once you’ve had a proper night’s rest – or as close as is possible, in the circumstance.”

“Alright then,” she said with a smile. She had missed sleeping in his arms. “I will give you a night. But I am stubborn too so no more than that.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James reacquaints himself with parenthood.

James had never felt guiltier in his life. He had been shocked to see Elizabeth on the dock, rail thin and her eyes shadowed by the lack of sleep. His heart had sunk when she had said fever and while she had quickly reassured him their daughter was fine he was very well aware that she would have had no such reassurance during Claire’s illness. Elizabeth had always been an attentive mother and hardly let the nurse do anything but he had woken twice on his first night home to Elizabeth slipping out of bed to check the cradle without any noise from Claire summoning her. It seemed to be part of her routine now and he could not blame her. James had woken himself in a cold sweat one night from a nightmare of coming home to worse news.

He had drawn Elizabeth into his arms in lieu of rushing to the cradle. He knew was not as stealthy as Elizabeth and always seemed to wake the baby when he hovered over the cradle. Instead, he woke Elizabeth and felt just as awful for disturbing her sleep. “James - are you alright? You are trembling.” He buried his face in her hair and breathed a quiet but definite affirmative. He could not tell her what he dreamed – she had lived that worry. But she understood at once and stroked his back, making shushing calming sounds. The sort he had heard her use on Claire. “Shall I fetch her?” she offered. James pretended sleep - was it not bad enough that he had woken Elizabeth – he would not disrupt an infant’s sleep for his own comfort. He lay awake for hours after Elizabeth had fallen asleep curled on his chest.

 

The next day, Elizabeth brought Claire to breakfast and the instant James was done eating – for Elizabeth had eaten very little he noticed, she put the baby in James’ arms where she grinned snottily up at him. Elizabeth wiped the baby’s nose causing a brief squawk of outrage. “See,” she said firmly. “Claire is fine, James. You do not have to worry. You do not have to feel guilty that you were not here.” James nodded uncertainly, smoothing Claire’s hair and smiling as she grabbed his hand and gripped one finger firmly. “Besides,” Elizabeth offered optimistically. “It is not as if we live in England where chills are rife. The young miss here just had to be different.” Claire laughed as if agreeing with Elizabeth burbling happily and attempting to put his finger in her mouth.

“I know that she is fine,” James said haltingly holding Claire a little tighter reflexively. “But what if –

“No,” Elizabeth said firmly. “No what ifs James. Think about where that leads us. What if I had gone to Nassau? What if I had married Will or run off with Jack? What if I had married you the first time we were engaged and we were tiptoeing round a big house ignoring each other because you would never impose on me and I`d dismissed that and the properness of your courtship as a total lack of interest. No what if’s. Claire is fine. You are home. Everything is as it should be.”

James did not think it was that simple. He still felt he had failed her in some way that felt almost instinctual but she had asked him to leave it and as always, he could not deny her and he nodded. Her reassurance did relieve him somewhat – that she was not dreaming of any other what if was something he hoped for. He leant to briefly kiss her, Claire held securely between them. “No more what if’s.” He agreed. Elizabeth rewarded him by letting him monopolise Claire for most of the morning and he made the most of it until she began to fuss to nurse when Elizabeth’s relief at holding the baby made him regret his selfishness. But Elizabeth settles herself in his arms before she puts the baby to her breast and he holds them both close, listening to the soft sounds of Claire suckling and fussing with Elizabeth’s hair.

 

* * *

James spent three days doting on the baby and worrying over her while Elizabeth indulged him. Claire herself was delighted with the constant attention from them both – she was only ever put down when she was asleep these days and in the middle of the night when she had fed and needed walked to sleep he seized the chance to do it, pacing back and forth with Claire while Elizabeth watched him, curled up in bed, sometimes drifting off sometimes caught up entirely in watching him with their daughter.

When he had tucked the baby in – the most nerve-wracking bit of the entire operation for him, he was always so scared she would wake and protest and he would have to start over but she doesn't squirming just a little as he tucks her into the cradle. He returns to their bed and draws Elizabeth into his arms. She kissed his cheek. “You are so good with her,” she said. “She will be a real daddy’s girl.” James found himself smiling in the dark. He almost replied. ‘Like you,’ but he thought of her mother – of her loss and said nothing.

“I think she will be equally doted upon,” James said earnestly and Elizabeth smiled against his skin.

“Indeed,” Elizabeth said. “I always found infants, such strange creatures, before. I thought they were loud and smelly and irritating.” She settles against him. “And even Claire manages to the first two,” she admitted. “But she is so perfect none the less.”

“An inherited trait,” James suggested making her laugh as she squirms against him.

“Which one,” she teased forcing him to defend himself. As if he would insult her so.

 

“She’s going to be just like you,” he said happily after she had accepted his profuse apologies.

“My father says the same,” Elizabeth said. “We may very well be pulling our hair out in fifteen or so years.”

“I think if you think it will take fifteen years for that to happen - you are being generous to yourself,” James said remembering Elizabeth at twelve voicing her desire to meet a pirate to the entire crew of the Dauntless. That earned him an elbow to the ribs.

“Such cheek,” she said. “I was an adorable child.” They lay awake in quiet for some time after that and Elizabeth’s breathing was so steady James thought she was asleep before she said quietly. “But I suppose it’s fortunate she is like me. And we should hope it continues.” James cannot bear the slight note of guilt in her voice.

 

“It would make life easier,” he allowed. “If there is not a marked resemblance to Mr Turner but you cannot think it would make any difference to how I feel about her.” Claire was his child in all the way that matters. James cannot even bring himself to feel remotely guilty that they deceived Turner – not after his behaviour towards Elizabeth on the day he had threatened her and Claire’s health. “And I have already said how I will deal with anyone who questions her parentage.” Legally at least Claire was his child because Elizabeth was his wife so James would not be dishonest in calling out anyone who said otherwise. And while they are on the topic he takes the chance to ask a question he had wondered almost since they wed. “I was not sure,” he said. “If when she was older you might want to tell her.”

“No,” Elizabeth said, at once. “When I thought, I would go to Nassau – I had a story planned. I could tell the truth – to a certain point and then invent some reason for why Will was gone. I was going to make it seem very romantic and tragic – lost love and all. But not now – not since I wed you. Will is gone now and you are her _father_. I cannot imagine it would help her in any fashion to know.”

James nodded and for a moment he was so relieved he cannot breathe and Elizabeth misread his silence. “I suppose she might know she is extra loved if she knows you chose to be her father,” she said. “But I do not want her to feel different – especially not if we have other children. Did you think I would?”

 “No,” James denied. “No – I mean I hoped you would not. Other children or not I would never treat her differently. I just was not sure. . ."

“It is you who is the honest one,” Elizabeth said carelessly then she quieted for a moment. “This is why you spared him,” she said sounding very certain. “When you called him out. In case I was going to tell her the truth when she was older.” James paused – she had always been able to read him so easily.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I considered it. For a moment, it seemed a reason to kill him. So, she would never know he had abandoned you – not if he was dead. But I could not bear the thought of her knowing I killed her father – “

 

“No,” Elizabeth corrected him. “You _are_ her father,” she added firmly. “The only one that matters. And if Will had died – I never would have told her something so hurtful.” She paused. “It isn’t best for children to know everything about their parents you know.” That gave James pause – Elizabeth was so close to her father and it was a long moment before she continues. “I told you about my mother,” she said. “About how much she wanted a boy. That I was not enough. My father never told me that. Why would he? I overheard it listening at doors. They fought about it – as much as they could when she was increasing and he was fretting. That’s how I know – how she wanted to give him a son more than anything. How she disagreed when he said I was enough.” She paused. “I was so angry with her and she was ill so my nurse kept me away. And then she was _gone_ and all I could see was how sad my father was, all because she wasn’t satisfied with me.” James wanted to hold her even closer if that was possible his hand stroking down her back a little. “I’d much rather have not known that when I was twelve and unable to decide if I was sad or angry,” she said. “When of course I was both. And I would never do that to Claire so as soon as she is old enough to understand – this will be something we never speak of. At all.” 

 

There was no room for disagreement in that tone of voice at all. But James did not want to disagree – he could see Elizabeth’s point and he could not deny this was what he wanted. Why would he argue? “I love you,” he said. “And her. And I would never wish to hurt either of you.”

“I know,” Elizabeth said. “You are my husband and my daughter’s father. And the best man I could hope for either. I love you.” James startled a little at that last – she had not said that since – well she had said it in the midst of childbirth but she had hardly been rational then.

“Truly?” he asked unable to help himself – he had longed to hear it for so long.

“Of course, truly,” she said. “I _love_ you, James Norrington. I would not say it if I did not mean it – no matter the circumstance.” James flushed, knowing that was a scold. She had been so panicked when the childbirth had started – and he could hardly blame her for that but he could not help but wonder if she had meant what she said. He should never have made it clear he doubted her.

“I did not mean to doubt you,” James said. “But I was already becoming a father that night – it was a little much for me to get _everything_ I wanted all at once.” This at least amused her. “But I am much more used to it now,” he assured.

“I should hope so,” she said. “Now go to sleep – the young miss will be awake any minute if we do not get some rest.” James nodded and pulled her close - he felt as if he would never be able to sleep caught up in her words but after an evening pacing with the baby and Elizabeth soft and sleepy in his arms, it was not so difficult to drift off after all. 


	20. Chapter 20

By the time, James was due to sail again, Claire could sit up and had perfected her grip on anything that came in reach. She had a definite preference for Elizabeth’s hair and that could be painful. Clearly, she was attracted to anything bright and when not trying to pull out Elizabeth’s hair the braid on James’ uniforms was a close second in her opinion. But with a little effort, she could be persuaded to be appeased with a finger or a rattle to grip instead. Elizabeth had finally stopped holding her breath at every sniffle and she thought she was close to convincing James to do the same.

 

He felt guilty about leaving, Elizabeth knew, even if he would never say so. Elizabeth had tried to be reassuring but to little effect. “It is alright you know,” she had told him one night. Elizabeth was settled in bed and James was pacing with Claire who had just nursed and yet showed no sign of falling asleep. Instead, she was sitting up in her father’s arms wide awake watching James with her big dark eyes – Elizabeth was still a little startled to see so much of herself in her daughter but she never tired of watching James dote on the baby. Her words caught his attention and he glanced over from his attempt to cajole Claire into sleeping. Elizabeth continued. “I will miss you – we both will. But we do not mind.”

James had paused uncertain and looked down at the resolutely awake baby who blinked back up at him. “I see,” he said seriously. “And you have discussed this seriously I presume.”

Claire laughed and reached for his nose and James bounced her a little to distract her.

“Yes,” Elizabeth told him amused. “We have many serious discussions don’t we Claire?” This earned her nothing but burbling noise from the baby. “Here give her back – I’ll see if she wants to nurse some more.”

James obliged at once, of course, and Claire did settle to the breast. She was a bit of a night owl and liked the midnight hours – it was getting harder to settle her after a night feed now, yet James refused to let Elizabeth deal with any of it on her own no matter how little sleep he got on top of a day’s work at the fort. Elizabeth didn’t think Claire was truly hungry but a little extra milk often soothed her to sleep.

 

James got back into bed and Elizabeth shifted so she rested in his arms with the baby at her breast. “What did you think it would be like,” she asked suddenly just as James was settled and James stirred a little behind her. Elizabeth had not planned for this life – not really. Even when she had been engaged to Will half the appeal had been that she would not be having the life expected of her. Will had very briefly mentioned once wanting to wait to start a family until he had been more established though how he had meant to accomplish this had never come up. They had both been _so_ clueless. Elizabeth had had numerous hideously embarrassing talks with Lady Bellamy that had meant family planning was not such a mystery though she’d been warned there was no guarantee in any method.

But James had wanted to marry her. Had wanted children – had planned on having a daughter who was just like her. Surely, he had taken his career into account when he had been planning this but he clearly did not take her meaning. “Think what would be like?”

Elizabeth shifted enough to kiss his cheek – perhaps it was thoughtless of her to bring up their previous engagement but she as had she carried on. “When you proposed the first time,” she said. “You had it all planned out. I believe. We would have a daughter first,” she was still a little touched by that, “and if that was your plan for our first child.  I can only imagine you had planned on having a strapping son as well.” James stayed quiet. “So, I was wondering,” she said again. “What you thought it would be like – surely it occurred to you that you would be leaving me in charge of all these children you’d planned while you kept Port Royal safe and civilised at sea?”

 

James kissed her cheek but did not answer for a long moment, Elizabeth knew she had put him on the spot. “I suppose I had a rather misguided idea of how involved I would be,” James said eventually quietly. He sounded almost guilty and Elizabeth turned to him as best she could without disturbing Claire. She had not meant to make him feel worse. She knows she was a lot more involved that people would expect – it wasn’t unheard of for her to nurse her child herself – not in Port Royal anyway – in London she would have been considered distinctly unfashionable for it. In fact, Elizabeth was a lot more involved than _she_ expected to be. When she considered the possibility of children when she was younger – the hour a day after tea that many of her peers spent with their children seemed more than adequate. How wrong she had been, she considered shifting the solid weight of the baby in her arms as Claire suckled.

“I know other fathers of course,” James continued carefully, “many of my fellow officers have children and my brothers and sister as well. If my sister's husband saw her children more than once a week when they were infants I would be surprised. And my brother in law is very much the best example to be found in my family.  So, I had thought that would be enough. But it seems remarkably misguided now.” He stroked Claire’s cheek very gently taking care to not disturb her.

 

Elizabeth considered for a moment and then asked. “And what about your father?” It seemed odd he had not mentioned the man who should have been his main influence but then James spoke so rarely about his own family. Not since his mother had sent the family heirlooms – and the few letters Elizabeth exchanged with his mother had not proved much of a revelation either. Elizabeth sent stories of James’ career and achievements and his mother wrote back well-meaning if bossy letters about James’ preferences. Some of which Elizabeth listened to and some of which she thought probably no longer applied given James had left home at twelve.

James did not seem keen to discuss his father and it was some time before he said. “I doubt I saw him once a month when I was very young even when he was home. Then when I was six – he took me to sea as preparation for the career he had decided on for me. And I proved a great disappointment so on our return, he ignored me entirely until I did enlist when I believe he felt his fatherly duties were discharged when he used his influence to get me a berth on a promising ship with a captain with a good reputation.”

 

Elizabeth thought this outrageous but knew James was unlikely to agree – not on his own behalf. What could a six-year-old do that was so disappointing anyway. But James sounded so uncomfortable she did not ask, Claire had fallen asleep at the breast and she slipped out of bed to put her down for the night before she woke and coming back to bed and slip into his arms.

“I hope you do not think I am entirely without role models,” James added suddenly. “When it comes to fatherhood. During our first engagement – your father was always very clear about what he expected for you and your children and I mean to live up to that.”

 

Elizabeth curled closer to him. “I have never had the slightest doubt you would be a wonderful father,” she told him. “Role model or not James – I know you. I am not doubting you – I was trying to be reassuring about your time away.” And failing miserably it seemed. James was exceedingly difficult to reassure or compliment or be sweet too in anyway. Elizabeth could not help but wonder if he would have always been like that or the uncertainty of living with a wife he did not even think loved him had created that self-doubt. . Which he would deny if she brought it up she was sure. Still, she could only persist. He hadn't even believed she loved him the first time she had said it - James was stubborn but she could be more so. She would just have to convince him. Of course, no doubt it didn’t help if her father was adding more pressure. “You must not let my father be overly demanding,” Elizabeth added. “He was away often enough when I was little. I was four or five when Mother and I moved to London to be closer to him and even then – he worked long hours at court.” Elizabeth had spent time with her mother when Mother was well enough or as happened more often with the nurse when her mother was ill or with child – which had been most of the time so she had always been keen to demand her father’s attention and not shy about how she got her own way. “I used to sneak out of the nursery on Fridays and scold him if he was at all late in my opinion – which was most of the time. He was always impressed I could tell the time so young.” She paused. “It was years before I admitted that I could hear the carriages from the nursery.”

James laughed. “I see, well don’t go giving away all the tricks. Surely Claire will need some of these when she is older.”

“I am sure she will come up with a whole new set,” Elizabeth advised. “That is how it works.”

James kissed her hair. “I’m sure,” he said. “I will just miss you both,” he said. “And it might seem hopelessly naïve that I never realised how much until after we were married. And Claire changed so much while I was away – I will come back next time and she’ll be talking.”

Elizabeth laughed at him. “Why where exactly are you planning on going?” she asked. He would not be away that long. “You are patrolling to Nassau – she will not be talking when you get back, James.” Claire would no doubt have grown – perhaps she might be crawling but Elizabeth had the sense not to say so.  

James made a non-committal sound in his throat – she supposed it was a cold comfort and she curled herself into his arms. “Get some sleep,” she said gently. “We will miss you too.”

 

 

* * *

Two days later when James sailed, Elizabeth took Claire to the docks even though James worried. “She will not catch a chill by being outdoors,” Elizabeth said. “It is not cold.” Her chill last time certainly had not come from the one trip out she had had to farewell James – it had been months after. Claire had spent the last day or so babbling constantly, a stream of nonsense and strung together syllables that amused her and made James look as if he was bound to miss her first word the instant she sailed.

James spent most of the farewell holding Claire as they stood on the docks. He bounced the baby as Claire crowed in triumph and held tightly to his hat. “Is that right?” he asked her. “Is that so, young miss.” Claire laughed at him as if they were having a proper conversation.

Elizabeth smiled. “She thinks if she holds onto the hat you won’t go,” she said. “Not the most sensible strategy but she is only young.” She held out her arms and James handed Claire over for her. It took a little persuasion to get Claire to give up the tricorne – it did have shiny braid, of course, so Claire clearly was disinclined to give it up.

“But I know,” Elizabeth said. “The sooner we let you go – the sooner we will have you back.” And then she drew him close for a kiss not caring that they were watched or that Claire protested the lack of attention being paid to her loudly. James held them both tightly in his arms for a long moment.

In fact, Claire wailed until the Dauntless was out of sight and Elizabeth could not blame her. She would miss James too. “Come on,” she said cajolingly. “We’ll go and visit grandfather shall we?”

After all her father was in James’ debt he had said so several times – in the short period between her accepting James’ proposal this time and the rather rushed marriage. “He must have some pull with the Admiralty board. He has influence everywhere else.” Claire blinked up at her as if fascinated by this idea. It was hopeless of course – Admirals were promoted off the post list and as young as James had made Captain he could not be at the top yet.

She doubted that James wanted to be given a yellow admiral's post – to retire on half pay and no longer sail. That sort of promotion was reserved for men not suitable for flag rank which didn’t apply to James at all. And she would never ask her father to act without consulting James. But it would not hurt to know just what was possible with her father’s influence.

 

* * *

Of course, once she had the conversation with her father, she then had the task of persuading him not to act on what they had discussed. Not yet. He thought the idea of James as an Admiral without squadron was ideal. Elizabeth had practically had to throw a tantrum to convince him to do nothing without her or James’ say so. Almost as soon as she had had the idea she suspected that James would not approve – he had mentioned his father using his influence, of course. It was how things were done. But that had been to get him postings. Not promotions. It played on her mind the entire time James was away.

But then being at home was not the only thing he wanted, she thought. If she could not keep him home with her and Claire all the time perhaps instead she could show him just how much she had meant what she said. That she loved him. She had picked a new menu based on the information in his mother’s letters. She was working on a painting of her and Claire – for his cabin, not the nursery and had even bought a new dress to wear to greet him in – in cream and gold which as near as she could tell (because he would never actually say,) was his favourite colour on her. She even got a matching little dress sewn for Claire and experimented with putting a gold ribbon in her hair – Claire allowed this but pulled it out immediately and wailed as she yanked on her own hair so Elizabeth abandoned that idea and instead bought the baby a new bonnet – Claire liked these as much Elizabeth had as a child but had less success in removing them. She just pouted – Elizabeth tickled the baby under her chin. “That won’t work on me,” she advised. “You get that from me. You will have to save that for your Father and Grandfather.”

 

The day the _Dauntless_ was spotted – Elizabeth took Claire down to the docks. Claire wrestled the bonnet all the way there and had not yet admitted defeat when they arrived. “Darling don’t,” Elizabeth cajoled. “Don’t you want to look smart for Father?” Claire sucked on her fist and looked sulky but Elizabeth was sure she would brighten up as soon as she saw James.

It taken so long to get Claire ready, that the _Dauntless_ was docked when they arrived. It surprised her then when the _Dauntless_ was not the only new ship in Port – clearly, they had taken a prize. Elizabeth could not help but stare at it – the tattered sails. The human bones for decoration. She turned Claire away from it in her arms – this only prompted the baby to sense there was something she shouldn’t be looking at and try to twist around and see but before she could consider that any further – she spotted James on the dock and pushed through the crowd to embrace him.

James grinned at the sight of her and Claire and kissed her deeply. Then when she pulled away from the kiss surprised and pleased at him he surprised her further when he stole Claire out of her arms. As if she would not have just handed her over when he'd been so long away. But his antics did make Claire crow with laughter and she clung to James when he held her close. “Look at you,” he said, “Look how much you’ve grown.” His visible pride and joy in Claire made Elizabeth beam herself.

“She’s still not talking,” Elizabeth reassured him, leaning in for another kiss. “But she makes her opinion very clear regardless.” Claire demonstrated this by tugging on her bonnet again and scrunching her small face up.

“What then?” James said. “It’s a lovely bonnet dear one, I rather thought you were fond of hats.” He handed over his own which calmed Claire instantly. He smiled at Elizabeth and gave Claire back. “I will only be a moment,” he said. “Everything here is nearly settled. I want to hear about everything I missed while I was away.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said. “And I will tell you – just as soon as you have told me how you took the _Queen Anne’s Revenge._ ”


End file.
